Hmmm-hmmmm-hmmm-hmmmm. Dimmer . . . brighter . . . dimmer . . . brighter . . . the purple glow around the crystal orb pulsated continuously, the strange humming melody it created buzzing in the air. The room was empty, devoid of sunlight. The purple glow hissed. Smoke curled up from the sheaves of paper on other tables and desks.

The door flew open. In stumbled a wizened old man, long grey hair unbound and streaming over his shoulder, grey beard nearly touching the floor. His midnight blue robe was half undone and falling off. He stumbled at the door and stared up, grey eyes wide.

"Viviane," he called, "Morrian, Chess . . ." Footsteps resounded in the hallway and he walked in, hesitantly and mouth gaping.

He stopped several feet away, hands outstretched to the glowing, pulsating, humming orb. Into the room ran the three he had called; a stately lady with a fall of golden hair, a smaller woman with ebony locks and dirt on her face, a man with red-brown hair and a sword on his waist.

"Great Teller," breathed the man. "What is the meaning of this, Merlin? What is happening?" His grip tightened on his sword and he shifted as if sensing danger.

"I sense darkness," said the lady with the golden hair.

"Yes, Viviane." Merlin's voice was broken. "Great darkness . . ." he stepped forward, wincing as the energy from the orb continued to dance and sing. "Darker than any to have ever faced this land."

The women with dark hair planted her hands on her hips. "Teller's Tongue, Merlin! How can there be more darkness? The princesses have all reached their endings, as they have many times before, and all in the same years! Darkness should not exist in this era."

"Do you forget, Morrian," the man said tightly, "the greater the good is in the world, the greater the darkness there is." Morrian opened her mouth. Merlin's rasping voice cut her off.

"He is right. Darkness has never been so strong. The goodness of the princesses cannot fend this off. It had already seeped into here, through the Glass Eye, as you can plainly see. Only one source can stop this now."

Viviane inhaled sharply. "The Teller's heir," she breathed. "Great Weavings, Merlin! She has been missing – or maybe dead – for nigh on nineteen years! Her power is as good as non-existent!"

Merlin backed away, shoulders hunched, hands dropping limply. "Then you just pray the Teller is a more cunning Weaver than ever, else we are all doomed." He turned dejectedly and walked past the three and out of the room. "Come, we must seal this room to prevent any leakage of this taint. And then we must find the Teller's heir. Or at the very least, her body."

With faces so solemn one would think the body lay mutilated before them, the other three turned and left the room, closing the door behind them. It shut with an ominous boom. The orb continued to radiate its purple aura, humming notes of deadly proportions.

A/N: I originally wrote this as scenes separated by lines, and only have the chapters now that it is completed and I am editing. This is the first draft, so apologies is scenes feel awkward when they start (and typos). I also hope my page breaks have correctly been placed in by hand. I am sorry if they are not.

I pounded at the top of the chisel with the stone. It felt warm and smooth against my palm. Each blow jarred up through my hand, through my arm, and into my shoulder. I gritted my teeth against it and pounded again at the chisel. It had to be here! . . . Somewhere! Chippets of rock splintered off and tumbled to the ground. My calves and feet were dusty. A breeze from the cave mouth blew a tangled brown lock in front of my face.

I paused briefly to flick the hair back behind my ear. I couldn’t wait for it to grow long enough to be tied back – I was regretting my attempt to cut it short. I set the chisel in the rock crack again and struck at it. Please let this be the right section, this time, I begged silently. I hit the chisel. Last time I’d done this, I hadn’t come close, and it took a good deal of clever lying to get out of that fix. I rammed the rock on as hard as I could.

Clang! I was so surprised I actually jumped and dropped the rock and the chisel. The rock hit my foot. I bit back a curse and shook it off, hoping around until the sting faded. Then I crouched low by the wall, digging and worming my fingers into the gap I’d created. My fingernails caught an edge and I yanked towards me.

A huge slab and grey, black streaked stone flew out of the wall. It bounced off my stomach and clattered to the ground, where it shattered into five pieces. “Oof!” I clutched my stomach and fell to my knees. It took me several minutes to regain my breath.

I leaned forward and placed my hands on the wall next to the open hole. It was just taller than my hands, and about twice as wide. There was hardly enough space for the inch-thick slab that had covered it. Oh . . . I’m going to have to explain that, I thought worriedly. I stared at the iron-coloured metal. Silvery lines in an odd design traced across it, lighting up from the outside to flow the centre, were an oval gemstone of purple was embedded.

I traced my fingers over the stone and the ornate border of gold around it. My fingers thrummed with energy. Light twinkled from the depths of the stone. A sort of humming, like from wind, started in my inner ear. I took my hand away.

Taking a deep breath I focused on the rest of the slab. I didn’t know what the obviously magical stone was about, but I vaguely recognized the slab from the magic books I’d read. It was an enchanted vault, that much I knew. If I hit the right words or tune or combination of both, then the various pieces would unlock and slide back. The lines the moving, glowing dots followed had to be the edges of the interlocked pieces.

I racketed my mind for the words and tune I had heard, some odd nights ago. “Egga navve nocha?” I tried. I winced at how out of tune my voice sounded. There wasn’t even the slightest reaction from the slab. “Egna navva noche?” Nothing happened, again. I sighed in frustration; this had probably been made as impossible as possible for me.

Something crunched behind me and I heard a chuckle. “You’ll be there until nightfall, if you keep singing like that.”

I shot to my feet and whirled around. “Magnum!” I shifted so I blocked the discovered vault. “You weren’t supposed to be back until eveningset.”

Magnum gave me a dry smile. “I finished what I must early.” His tangled black hair seemed to be sticking together with sweat, and there was either mud or dried blood smeared faintly on his face. “I see you have been busy, Thyra.”

“Actually, it happened all on its ow –”

“Thyra.”

I folded my arms and straightened my shoulders. We stared at each other, hard. I refused to back down.

Suddenly Magnum smiled and relaxed. “I can see I’ve taught you well.” He strode forward. “And in truth I should have known you’d find this eventually.”

“You grew careless, Magnum. I heard and saw you open this twice.”

He stood beside me and looked at the vault. “Then the contents within no longer need be secret.” He held out his left hand, palm up, and sang, “Egana navvea noche.” His voice was rich of musical, the voice of a sorcerer or wizard. In comparison, my voice sounded like a squawking bird.

The lighted dots all banded together, creating glowing lines that made the metal slab fragment. Each oddly shaped slice crept backwards into the stone with the sound of metal on metal. I leaned forward and looked inside. There was an old, dusty, leather bound book written in some foreign language. A silver chalice studded with jewels stood behind it, a crystalline blue pendant lying next to it.

I furrowed my eyebrows. “This is a bit disappointing,” I said.

Magnum laughed. “That’s because you haven’t seen this.” He reached into the vault, his hand moving further back than I would have thought possible and withdrew something long and gleaming. He offered it to me.

My eyes widened. “Whoa.” I took it from him, metal cold against my skin. “This is one wicked sword.” Double-edged and made of iron, the blade rounded gracefully to a point. The hilt and guard was a simple crosspiece, runes etched into the metal and a blood red ruby in the centre. The handle was wrapped in leather. I curled my hand around it. An absolutely perfect fit.

“Now this I can understand wanting to hide from me.” I took a couple steps back and experimentally stepped into a couple forms with it. It was completely balanced and exactly the right length for me to use. Reluctantly I lowered it and offered the sword hilt first to Magnum. He didn’t take it.

“You keep it.”

I stared. “Really?” He nodded. “Really truly?” I was starting to grin. “Oh, wow. Thanks you, Magnum!”

He smiled at me. “You’ve earned it.” Still grinning I moved away, sliding through more forms. “And Thyra?”

“Mm?” I looked over my shoulder at him. His face was deadly seriously again.

“From this point on, don’t ever go searching through my things.”

“Yes, Magnum,” I said meekly. Past experience had taught me that disobeying him was not pleasant. The retaliation was often humiliating, and I didn’t have magic of my own to counter it.

Magnum’s calm demeanor was back. Continuing through forms I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He unloaded himself of satchel, cloak, and broadsword, placing everything back exactly. His sword repolished itself automatically, by means of an old spell on the stand. He hid the contents of the satchel from my direction.

My bare foot landed on something slippery. I hit the floor with a thud and a groan. The sword I’d been using fell on top of me. I realized I was lying on a patch of ice.

“Don’t let your attention waver,” Magnum reminded me, not even looking over. “That’s how your opponent wins.”

“Heh, right.” I ran a hand through my hair and got to my feet. The ice evaporated. I picked up the sword, determined to do better. As I flowed into position, I couldn’t help but wonder, what opponent am I winning against? I’ve never even fought Magnum, and he’s the only one I know . . . My balanced wavered and I forced myself to pay attention. Time for useless questions later.

-----

I rubbed the cloth along the blade, pushing so hard my hand stung in a desperate attempt to remove the ancient grime. It wasn’t going so well. I could feel the cold stone floor through my thin mattress. Wind whistled behind me outside against the cliff face. Weak sunlight was warm on my back.

Magnum was sitting at a table, inking something into one of his books in a language I couldn’t read. I took several deep breaths and tried to steel my nerves. I kept finding little reasons not to speak. The cloth slipped off the blade. I cut my finger. I scowled and put the sword down.

“Magnum?” I asked, turning around to face him. “I’ve been thinking and . . .”

“Yes?”

I noticed he didn’t even glance up. I took a deep breath. “I want to know when you’ll keep your promise.”

He froze and looked at me. “I’m sorry?”

“Your promise,” I repeated. “You said you’d let me go and see the world one day. I want to know when.”

“I’ve told you. We’ll leave when you’re ready,” he frowned at me.

“And when is that?”

“I’m not sure. Soon.”

“You’ve been saying that for three years!” I said indignantly. I stood up and faced him. “In a month I’m going to be nineteen,” I folded my arms, “you keep saying we’ll leave when I’m ready, but how will you know if I never try anything? Can’t you just keep your promise and take me somewhere?”

“You don’t know what you’re suggesting. There are dangers I haven’t told you about, you couldn’t imagine –”

“That’s why I’m going with you! If something happens that I can’t handle, you can. I’ll be fine.”

“No, Thyra,” he said firmly. “You are not leaving here, not yet. Wait until I believe you are ready.”

“But –”

“End of discussion.”

Magnum looked away from me and continued to write. My hands curled into fists, but I ducked my head and sat down slowly. I looked at my sword. A valuable item locked away for who knows how long. Locked away just like me.

Reluctantly I drew the blade on to my lap and began to polish it again.

----

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Magnum was still asleep. My free hands folded the skirt I wore repeatively. The wind that flowed through the mountain peaks lifted it up, ruffling the short pants I always wore. Hard edges dug into my arm where I leaned against the cave opening. The moonlight made the mountainsides and valley walls glow white.

“Come on,” I muttered, “get here already!” I whistled a simple little tune for the fifth time that night. The notes echoed off the mountain peaks and faded into oblivion. Silent minutes passed.

Then, the tune sung back by a sweet voice, ornamental trills and notes added in. The voice didn’t echo, and followed up with high pitched laughter. The voice danced on the wind. The air in the empty space between the cliff walls swirled, spinning round and round under taking on a ghostly figure with wispy long hair.

“You said you’d come during the lunar eclipse,” I said. “You’re late. It ended hours ago.”

The wind spirit laughed. “I never pay attention to time – I mean, first I was a sea creature, now I’m a wind creature, time is different for me than for you mortals.”

“Uh-huh.” I still didn’t know what they were talking about, even after half a dozen conversations. “The point is, Melody, is that if Magnum finds out . . . I don’t think he’d appreciate me talking to a wind spirit.”

They flicked there hand carelessly, washing my face in a breeze. “Oh well,” They sang a couple random notes.

“Can you just tell me more about the world?” I asked. “It’s been months, I was starting to get sick seeing only stone again.”

“What happened to the plant I brought?”

“I accidentally knocked it over the edge.”

“Clumsy you.” They pulled out from the whirlwind their body was a small, narrow object that fluttered and something that was hard and round. I took them eagerly. “They’re a feather and a shell.”

“So this is what they look like.”

They laughed. “You really need to get out of this cave.”

“I can’t fly or climb – without Magnum’s magic I’m stuck here.” I ran my hands over the objects. “Thanks for these. So much better than just hearing about stuff. Tell me what’s happening in the world.”

“Oh, not much. There’s peace, like, everywhere. Everyone’s all la-dee-da,” they sang these last words. “Happy people, pretty landscapes, nothing’s happened in years. Well . . . there is some talk in the Crystal Tower, but who pays attention to those old fuddy-duddies? They always worry about something and are older than me by, like, forever . . .”

“I was kind of hoping you’d have something exciting to tell.” I shrugged. “If it’s all peaceful, maybe I can talk Magnum into taking me out.”

“Maybe. He almost seems as big a fuddy-duddy as the others.” They sang a wild tune. “I think I’m gonna head out. I’ll be back in, like, six new moons – probably.”

“Please do.”

They evaporated, their voice singing notes that scattered in the wind.

I pushed away from the rock wall and backed into the cave. Treading softly I walked into the back corner that I slept in and kneeled. Brushing the extra hay aside I pulled out my satchel and opened the flap. Inside was what I still had from Melody’s gifts. There was an odd coloured rock with the imprint of some tiny creature, a pressed flower between two sheets of glass, a fragment smelling pine cone, two large chips of bark, and a leather dream catcher with a scarf tied on it.

I put the feather and shell inside and closed the bag. If it wasn’t for Melody, I wouldn’t know what most stuff looked like. Placing the bag down carefully I covered in the extra hay until it’d be hard to see. With another glance at Magnum I pulled off the skirt and yanked the thin blanket up over me. Lying down, I hoped he really was asleep.

~POV Change~

Strolling down the alley he slipped his hands casually into the pockets lining the interior of his cloak. His fingers closed around the hilt of his knife, the warm metal relaxing him. He glanced over his shoulders, up and down the alley, and then slipped through the shadowy arched doorway.

The room smelt like spoiled ale, and he could almost feel the rankness in the air from the unsavory characters. His pale blue eyes shifted back and forth, and it took a great deal of willpower for him to not wince. He slipped between the tables and patrons to the bar at the back and slide onto a chair.

“Afternoon, Melissa,” he greeted the barmaid. She smiled at him and leaned against the counter.

“Afternoon yourself,” she said. “Can I get ya anything?”

“No, I’m just here to meet up with the gang.” He looked around again. “Though I don’t see them.”

“I was wonderin’ why they waltzed in here durin’ filth hour.” She picked up a rag and started polishing the bar. “They’re in the back room. But don’t be gettin’ ideas ‘bout usin’ my bar for more of your meetings. The hall should be a good enough place for you.”

“Normally, yes,” he stood up. “This is a special case.”

“It’d better be.”

“Thanks again for doing this, Melissa.” He let himself through the bar and walked into the closed room behind.

Sitting around a table, relaxed into chairs, were five other men he considered a descent sort, although he still had those questionable moments. The grinned over at him, the two largest taking draughts from their mugs.

“’Bout time you showed up, friend,” one said through a mouthful of ale. He dropped down into the remaining chair, sitting with a casual grace.

“I was busy,” he replied. “Someone has to deal with all the technicalities.” The others gave him a blank look.

“What technicalities?” asked a skinny man.

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, exasperated. “How else do you think we get the reward?”

A man jab a mug at him. “Now I see why you’re always changing teams, Finn, you’re too full of yourself.”

“And you, Caspian, are as observant as ever,” Finn smiled. “Now, how about we get down to business? Where to look; pick up any leads?”

“Rumors,” a man said. “Not much. There’s been no sightings of him for years, and none went further than this town. He’s a wizard, so either he’s in some other realm and as a good as dead, or holed up somewhere.”

“He ain’t a wizard, he’s a sorcerer,” one put in.

“What’s the difference?” another said.

“A sorcerer don’t think as much. He’s more dangerous.”

“Okay,” Finn interrupted. “I think we can agree, no matter what, that the Black is the most dangerous person alive.” There were mutterings of agreement. “The question is, where did he go? Who’s got the map?”

In response Caspian pulled out a sheet of thick, yellowed parchment and unfurled it on the table. All the men leaned over to gaze at it. The edges showed the borders of seven other kingdoms, while the middle was dominated by a demographic of an eighth.

“This is the Crystal Tower and royal palace,” Finn said, tapping the centre, “and we’re in this town here.” He tapped an X to the southwest, on the edge of one mountain range. The range curved up the west and north of the kingdom, a half ring in the middle of the country. Another mountain range mirrored it in the south and east. “He never got through the two passes, we know that, and it’s next to impossible to cross the mountains. Reason stands to say he’s in them.”

A man snorted. “So we explore the ranges, hoping to find clues?”

“Do you, by chance, have a better idea?”

The man shifted uncomfortably. “No, but that’ll take forever.”

He smiled at them. “True, it will. Then again . . . we’re the best bounty hunters in the land – and think of that gold we’ll get!” While I, on the other hand, he thought, will think of the Traitor facing justice. As long as the world is ridded of his evil, I could care less if I get paid. The other men in the room were smiling and nodding, confiding to each other how they would spend their share.

“Say, Finn,” Caspian spoke up, “should a couple of us watch the passes, and in the interior countryside, case he tries to make a break for it?”

“Good idea,” he said, even though he didn’t trust them if they weren’t near him. “You, watch this pass. You and you, take alternate route around the Crystal Tower and watch the other pass.” He intentionally didn’t pick Caspian.

“And now, my friends,” he grinned, snatching up the map, “prepare yourselves for travel, for in the morning we leave – to hunt the Black!”

“To hunt the Black!” the men cheered, standing up, chairs scraping. As the filed past him out of the room, he slipped his hand reassuring to hold the dagger handle. He knew why he had been hired along with these men; he was the only honest bounty hunter.

His only question was, were true bounty hunters ever honest?  

~POV Change~

 “Ow! Ouch!” I jerked my feet back as the odd prickling sensation roused me from sleep. I opened my eyes as I sat up and rubbed them, scowling and glaring at nothing in particular. “Couldn’t you just yell at me?” I asked. “You used to!”

I could hear a half smile in Magnum’s voice as he replied. “And then you learnt how to ignore my voice in sleep.”

I got to my feet and stretched, my back cracking. “It’s a gift,” I teased. Magnum was standing near the edge, hands clasped behind his back, looking out over the void. Wind played with the black curls that escaped the bindings.

Sadly, I knew that position. He was brooding. He did that sometimes, although he never told me what he was thinking about, answering my questions evasively. I took it upon myself to get him back into the present.

I grabbed a crust of semi-dried bread and stuffed it in my mouth, joining him on the edge. “Can I go climbing?” I asked him. It took him a moment to stop looking at nothing and turned his guarded eyes to me.

“No.” He turned back inside. For a brief second, it felt almost like he’d punch me. I’d never gotten such a flat out denial. Anger blossomed in my stomach.

I set my jaw and looked at him coldly. “Then I guess I’ll just go myself.” He head jerked up, but I didn’t see any more because I was already lowering myself over the edge, feet on the ledge that connected to the one outside the cave.

Hardly daring to breathe I gripped the rock and moved down lower. Magnum’s face appeared above me, more distraught than I would’ve thought.

“Thyra, stop this. You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“I’m not scared,” I told him confidently, even though my heart was pounding. A pebble fell from where I placed my foot. I shifted on the rock face and crept down. Empty space danced in the edge of my vision.

I was down past the ledge now, fingers and feet finding old handholds. Magnum’s feet were coming closer, raining dust down on me. I coughed. Down further. I wondered if I’d be able to reach the bottom.

Clinging to the stone I reached with my foot to another hold, trying to get my feet to breach the distance. I slipped.

Everything tilted and my muscles clenched. There was a sharp tug on my arm. I felt myself being lifted up; and then I was on the ledge with Magnum.

“Are you alright?” he asked me. I pulled away, lifting my chin defiantly.

“I’m perfectly fine,” I snapped, turning away to swing up easily onto the floor of the cave. Magnum sighed tiredly and walked up, rubbing the side of his head in stress. I folded my arms and kept my back to him.

He stood next to me. “You have got to be one of the most impatient and reckless people I know,” he said quietly.

I bit back my first reply. I wouldn’t know that, since I’ve never met anyone else!

“I suppose I was a bit cold,” he continued. “I was merely reflecting upon something. Thyra.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “Don’t ever do something like that again. Am I understood?”

I lowered my head. “Yes, Magnum.”

He clapped me lightly on the shoulder with a fleeting half smile. “That’s better.” He went over to his table with books and inks and sat down on the stool. He began to leaf through one of his tomes on magic, making notes on a fresh sheet of parchment.

I shifted where I stood. “May I ask . . . what were you thinking about?”

For a brief moment, Magnum bowed his head, looking sad. Then he raised his head and said, “Nothing important. Just an old life I no longer had.”

Immediately I bounded over and sat down across from him, turning my pleading, curious face up to him. I loved hearing about what he called his ‘old lives’. He glanced at me once, twice, three times before chuckling and shaking his head.

“Oh, fine.” He closed the book and leaned his arms on the table. “Now let’s see . . . ah, yes. I was in Prycrest, in a town near the border of Gardinal and Anamaeia. There was some unrest going on about whether or not the Tales were happening and I happened to be in the area.”

“How was there unrest?” I interrupted. “I thought Strands were unknown until they weren’t Strands anymore.”

“That’s why there was unrest,” Magnum explained. “Some people thought the Strands were done and tried to convince others. They were wrong in the end, of course. I was just thinking what might have happen if I acted differently.”

“Well, how did you act?”

“I tried to make them forget about potential finished Strands. Then they discovered I was a sorcerer, which didn’t help. Afterwards there was . . . an incident, and I was one of the few who could help. I was wondering what might’ve happened if I’d left earlier, or not intervened. What happened – I guess you could say it changed the way I saw things.”

I knew Magnum was keeping something from me. “What kind of incident? Tell me!”

He smiled dryly and shook his head. “Oh no, I’m not telling you about that. It’s not the most pleasant tale.”

“I can handle it.” Magnum looked at my expression before giving a grim nod.

“Very well.” He lowered his voice. “It involved Shadowspawn.”

My mouth opened slightly as I tried to register that. “You fought Shadowspawn?” I stared at Magnum in awe. “That’s – that’s incredible! Awful, too. What was it like? How did you fight them?”

“Dangerously. Shadowspawn are –”

“Impervious to metal and certain brands of magic, I know!”

“Thyra,” he said gravely. “I am not telling you this so you can get excited. Shadowspawn have one goal – to snuff out the good brought by the Tales. The common people were massacred, many died. They were driven off using elemental and light magic; and it was the hardest fight of my life.”

“Oh,” I said, the amazement dying down inside of me. The expression on Magnum’s face told me that he wanted to say something along the lines of ‘you’ve never known bloodshed, you couldn’t know better’. I quickly spoke into the quiet, “Well, at least there aren’t any more Shadowspawn in the age!”

Something dark and worrisome glinted in Magnum’s eyes, counteracting the light tone in which he said, “Yes, and for that I’m sure everyone is happy.”

I eyed him uncertainly, a strange chill marching up and down my spine. Magnum must’ve sense my mood because he laughed and ruffled my hair. I laughed and ducked my head back.

His mood sobered after a second or two, the smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes. “That’s enough now,” he said, once again opening the tome. “Get to work.”

“Yes Magnum.” I slipped off the stool and picked up one of the thinner books written in plain, old English. Sitting on the cold ground, I flipped to the chapter on enchanted objects, hoping to find something new in the pages. I still wasn’t sure why I had to learn about magic.

It was some time before I realized the chill hadn’t left me.  

----

I looked up at the half moon in the sky, stars speckling the dark sky to the point where the black emptiness glowed. The wind whistled in the ravine, bringing with it the scent of wet rock, and something else that was new. Something gross and stinky. I played with the things from my bag.

There was the creak of footsteps and I felt eyes on my back. Hastily I shoved everything back in my bag and hid between my body and the rock wall as Magnum sat down beside me. He looked like an old man in the silver light.

“You do realize I know about that,” he said casually, staring out over the ravine.

I scowled into the middle distance. “This is completely unfair. I can’t keep secrets from you, yet I know you have secrets from me.”

“That’s not my intention,” he told me. “I plan on telling you all of them, someday. And then I’m sure you’ll have plenty of secrets I don’t know about, while knowing all of mine.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And when in that suppose to happen?”

“When you’re ready to leave.”

“So, basically never.”

“Have patience.”

I looked at him. “Over eighteen years isn’t patient enough for you? I’m sick of all this stone!”

His expression hardened. “I thought I told you we were not discussing that.”

I bowed my head. “Sorry Magnum.”

He sighed tiredly. “You’re impatient. It has been a long time.” I wanted to scream at him. It was only my whole life. Fear of what Magnum might do kept me quiet. If I pushed him more when he was like this . . . I shuddered at the thought.

“Well, it might change soon.”

I sat up straighter and stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“We . . . might be leaving soon,” he said carefully.

I struggled to sit still. “Oh, yes! Please! Does this mean you think I might almost be ready?”

“No,” he said solemnly. “I don’t think you’re ready, but I think it’s time.”

Magnum got to his feet wearily as my face fell and patted my shoulder awkwardly. “Get some sleep.” I nodded, resting my chin on my hand and staring glumly out at the endless drop. Magnum retreated back inside.

Whatever it’s time for, I thought bitterly, I bet I won’t be there to witness it.

----

The next morning I spent all the time I could practicing my forms with my sword, balanced precariously on a wobbly stool. Magnum pretended to be working, but he was only half paying attention to it, I could tell he was watching me. What he was watching me for, that I couldn’t quite figure out.

Suddenly he closed a tome loudly, standing up so the stool made a great deal of noise. My concentration shattered and the stool flew out from under me. I hit the ground hard, feeling the start of bruises on my body. My breath came out in a rush.

Surpassing a groan I flicked back hair and looked at Magnum, annoyed. “Must you always be doing that?”

He gave me a dry smile. “If you can’t handle sudden noises as these, I doubt you’d handle well in a fight where it’s all noise.”

I got up and planted my hands on my hips. “But if it’s all noise, then it would all get filtered out because it’s not a shock.”

Magnum inclined his head. “Fair point.”

Silence fell.

Now, I’m really bad at dealing with awkward silences, mainly because whenever they happen something is usually expected of me. Course I never know what. The silence dragged out. I fidgeted. Magnum continued looking half-expectedly into middle distance.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. “So . . . what?”

“I’m going to be leaving, Thyra.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be gone for a few days.”

“Okay . . .”

I didn’t see why he was making such a big deal about this. Normally he just announced to me and left. Sometimes he didn’t even tell me. Only if he was gone for more than a week did I get worried. I didn’t want to die alone in a cave from starvation.

“When I get back . . . when I get back, I believe I will take you out, providing everything works out as I hope.”

For a moment the world seemed frozen as it sunk in. Then the biggest bubble of excitement swelled in me. “Oh, yes, yes, yes!” I threw myself forward and wrapped my arms around it. It was a bit uncharacteristic – he took a half-step back in surprise – but I needed to do something. Finally!

“There is, of course, the possibility things will not work out and I won’t be able to take you,” I heard from above me.

I hastily stepped back and straightened myself out. “I know,” I said, my voice sounding miserable again. “Always risks and all that – if I can’t go, I understand.”

Magnum gave me an exasperated look. “Somehow, I don’t think you really do.”

He was right, of course. I really didn’t. I knew there was danger. There was in everything. I wasn’t an idiot. If was if Magnum was keeping something huge and important about the world from me, and expected me to know what it was any ways.

I made sure not to show what I felt in my expression. He watched me for a moment more, than nodded once and turned away. I stood there in silence, sword at my feet, as he packed his satchel of unknown things, strapped his broadsword around his waist, and stepped to the cave opening.

He paused there, lifting a hand to mean good-bye and saying, “A few days, five at the most.” Then he was gone, turning down the small ledge outside to vanish by magic once out of my sight. Over the years, I’d gotten fairly good at guessing when he exited and entered. An affinity, Magnum always called it.

I was on my own, all alone again.

I didn’t mind. I picked up my sword, rightened the stool, and climbed back on to it. My time was my own. Now for the same repetitive routine, until five days passed.

~POV Change~

He was tired. Tired of walking through mountains for days and days, having to be as nimble as a mountain goat. Tired of the same company, which had grown tedious in the one tracked singled mindedness they all seemed to share. Tired of following one clue, a mere hunch.

They all thought he was in the right, that he knew exactly what he where he was going. He was tired of them having complete faith, and talking about the horrible things they’d do when their quarry was found. True, he had to admit to himself, if he got his hands on the Black, very little would stop him from extracting a just punishment.

He hated traitors, and oath breakers, and all other like that. Strange, maybe, for a bounty hunter surrounded by people who did that constantly. But that was him, honest to a fault.

Coarse laughter shattered his thoughts, pulling him back to then and now. He wondered idly what the joke had been, and if it had really been funny, or just the usual stupidity. Most likely the latter, he reasoned.

Glancing up at the sheer, rocky crags, he absentmindedly fingered the hilt of his hidden dagger. He didn’t like carrying open weapons – people were less inclined to trust him if he did – but he wasn’t foolish enough to go unarmed in present company.

Suddenly he stopped, sure something had changed in the atmosphere. The others in his group continued on. He looked up at the sky, searching for anything out of place in the mountains.

Ahead of him, someone slowed down, looking around suspiciously.

“Oh that is disgusting,” the man growled, “who’s the wise guy responsible?”

The others slowed down and stopped, eyeing each other, believing someone else had to have caused the awful stench that was gradually growing stronger.

“Hold on,” he said, staring up and holding a hand for silence.

The others turned their attention to him. “What is it, Finn?”

“That smell isn’t us.” He sniffed the air. Slight movement caught his eye. He focused on it for a moment. Then Finn was sure. Someone, or something, was up in the mountains, there at an almost impossible height.

Finn pointed confidently. “There’s something, there. In the mountains. Be a bit hard to get too, under any circumstances.”

The other four men, grinned at each other. “Sorcery, that is.”

“Climbing up, are we Finn?” another asked.

“I plan to,” he said. “Best chance we got, who’s coming up? Hate to take the glory all for myself.”

It always amazed him, how easy it was to know what people wanted most. Others seemed to struggle, but for him . . . well, Finn found some sort of acceptance almost anywhere.

With him in the lead, the group of bounty hunters began to clamour over uneven terrain, making for the base of the rock side on which the movement had occurred. As the moved closer, Finn’s continuous glance showed him it might just be an actual cave.

----

So far up, yet barely there. The distance was extreme, the wall sheer. He knew they had climbed high, and that was only a small fraction of the total distance. How could one get up there, save by magic? It would be impossible on one’s own – all have saved each other from falling numerous times already.

Finn paused to catch his breath, laying his cheek against the rock, looking up at the blue sky. There was a sudden sound; stilling the others instantly. One man muttered about a rock fall. Finn knew better. Whatever the sound had been, indistinguishable as it was, it most definitely came from a human voice.

It was one of those days when I was grateful I’d failed all of Magnum’s attempts to teach me magic. Mainly because I probably would blown myself up otherwise.

The day was hot, the sun making the rock of the mountains blinding if I looked at it too directly. It was dimmer and cooler in the cave, protected as I was. Magnum had been gone for three days, which mean he’d come back today or tomorrow. I hoped for today. I was getting a bit bored, and I wanted to leave. What had entertained me in past years had grown trivial.

I was sitting at a table, flipping through one of Magnum’s tomes in a strange language. Hopefully, I’d see something cool that’d distract me. There were things that only required being deciphered to do. Which, I had discovered, was a lot easier said than done.

I paused at a page with and ornate inked bordered, and an ink drawing of some kind of three dimensional oval, with strange lines and symbols. It reminded me vaguely of the gemstone in the opening of Magnum’s safe. Only the illustration seemed a lot more dead, no attempt to put that inner light in the drawing. So maybe it wasn’t the same thing.

I looked at the next, full of words in a language that used odd symbols. It was absolute nonsense to me – I must’ve never seen this page before, because I usually recognized various weird languages as being the same as another.

My eyes skimmed over the shapes, understanding vaguely how bits and pieces probably worked. At the bottom was a line in familiar handwriting, set out in a tongue I recognized if didn’t understand.

The question in my mind, was why had Magnum written on this page? A personal reminder? An important piece of information? Or something more? My head leapt at all the possibilities, wondering and wishing I could know fiercely. There had to be something.

My gaze drifted back to the drawing of the object. Maybe . . . I picked up the tome in my arms, unsteady under the sudden weight, and carried it next to the hole in the wall that accessed Magnum’s safe.

I set the book down with a grunt and crouched next to it, twitching aside the curtain Magnum had placed. I hesitated, partly sure that some kind of alarm would sound, or that I would get into big trouble when he got back.

Well, I thought angrily, that’s just too bad. I’m not a little child anymore. If he wants to keep things from me, then he shouldn’t let me know about them in the first place. I’m old enough to make up my own mind.

I glanced again at the drawing and line in Magnum’s script. Let’s see . . . that was an a . . . and that a th . . . and that there was an ie . . . hm, it could be the incantation for making the inner-light-whatever. It could also be something ridiculous, like how to summon a rock. I wouldn’t have put it past him for making the whole thing a set up.

I shrugged and focused on the drawing. “Okay,” I said, “now how do I summon or create you, or whatever?” The tome remained stubbornly silent. “Why couldn’t it be, like, abracadabra make that thing appear.” I jabbed a finger on the page. Nothing happen. Shoot, I had been hoping for the absurd. “Or do I have to have magic for this to work? Is that why I can’t understand this gibberish and Magnum can?”

I let out a frustrated sigh that blew hair out of my face, dropping my chin on to my fist. Almost against my will, my gaze slid back to the open pages to glare at them. Suddenly it hit me.

“Of course!” I jumped to my feet as if shocked. “You’re not a spell or an explanation or the like – it’s some kind of potion that makes whatever the thing is.”

Potions, potions I could do because they didn’t require to maker to also be a user of magic. Most of the time. Also providing I didn’t mess up, which actually happens a lot now that I think about it . . .

Digging around my things and shared belongings, I pulled out a stand-alone cauldron and set it on a worktable. Pulling out other items I knew would be needed, I stopped only briefly to find something to tie my hair back in. I learned to hard way how easy it was to light it up.

Finding a long blue ribbon with gold edging and designs, I kept searching with my eyes as I wrapped it around and around. By the time I was long, the ribbon was pulled tight around my hair, the length of my little finger, with a small tangle of brown hair at the bottom. Wild strands still fell in my face, but at least I wouldn’t burn it all off.

I shuddered to imagine explaining that to Magnum when he got back.

Picking up the large book, I dropped it on the table next to the cauldron with a thud. I scowled at the written page, glaring at it critically. Now to translate it . . . that was a mission impossible.

Now that I knew it was a type of potion, I could guess at things much more easily. Certain items have symbols or specific lengths with them always, making it work like a red flag for someone like me.

I practically ransacked the place, gathering up with I could guess. Oddly enough, the place looked a little neater after I’d thrown things in the cauldron. The contents inside began to smoke as I used a tempered stick to mix them together. The thick, greyness of it billowed out, flowing down over the table to curl around my feet.

“Okay,” I said, fanning smoke away from my face and the book pages. “I’m gonna guess that next thing is Sheep’s Tongue.” In case you’re wondering, that’s a plant. Had quite an interesting back story behind its existence, involving the Teller themself.

I picked up the dried stems and dropped them in. A mini explosion happened, creating a loud bang and a plume of smoke that shot out.

Immediately I was backing away, gagging. “Oh, gross! Yuck!” The smell coming out was enough to make me want to hurl. Acrid smoke continued to pump out, filling the whole cave and worsening the smell. I didn’t think the gas was poisonous, but I also didn’t think it was about to be health beneficial.

Despite myself I began to cough. It was getting harder to see, and the air was more resistant. I wished I didn’t have a nose, the smell was so back it was dizzying.

Coughing and gagging and trying very hard not to throw up bile, I made my face back to the table with the cauldron. I don’t how it was possible, but the smell was worse closer. Really struggling for clean air now, I lugged the heavy pot off the table and dragged it over to the ledge. It was only a little better out there, the ingredients still creating more foul smelling smoke.

I sank to my knees, half leaning on the pot as I slowly tipped it. Smoke spread out downwards, followed by a dark, sludgy substance that dripped out in large splotches of gunk. I made a face as I watched it fall to the ground far below.

The air gradually cleared around me, the smoke thinning and after a time it had gone to torture someone else. I breathed a sigh of relief and carried the cauldron back into the cave.

Setting it back on the table, I heard something clank inside. Frowning, I peered through the opening to see something reflect light.

Instinct told me I shouldn’t pick it up, but chuck it outside along with the other stuff. Too late, for my curiosity got the better of me and I reached inside. My fingers brushed against something smooth and cool. Carefully I pull it out of the cauldron.

The jewel was dark grey, and about the size of my fist. I compared it to the ink image in the tome. What I had wasn’t quite the small – mine was too roundish, not oval enough, and aside from some shadowy lines beneath its surface running lengthwise, there weren’t any marking. Maybe I hadn’t let it sit long enough, or had left it in for too long.

Setting it over top of its much larger drawing, I bent over the other page, studying Magnum’s writing. It was obviously something more for the stone, I just couldn’t figure out what. Pity I hadn’t ever learned to read more languages. That would have made this easier.

With a frustrated sigh, I gave up on maybe decoding part of it. I plopped down on a stool, rolling to stone back and forth on the pages. I have been hoping for something more exciting. A grey stone. I could get that in under a minute, up here.

“What are the chances I’ll say some random word and the thing’ll explode,” I muttered. Nothing happened. “Oh, come on, those sort of things happen all the time in the Tales!” Still no reaction. “Maybe if I smash it . . .” Great idea, except if that goop from before was inside it, that’d be a mess to clean up.

I was back to square one. Mumbling to myself I got up and gave the cauldron a quick clean over, to not arouse Magnum’s suspicions too much. I set it back where I found it, and tossed other unused items back in their respective places.

When I was done, I paused to look around the cave, fists planted on my hips, hating that there was no more space. I couldn’t risk climbing all alone, and it was impossible to go anywhere. I wanted something to do, something to distract me until Magnum returned and I could finally leave.

I noticed a glint, in the corner of my eye. My head jerked to it. The stone was different, somehow, a beam of sunlight that somehow reached in this far reflected off it oddly. The hairs on the back of my neck rose.

I walked towards it slowly, one hand scrunching my skirt nervously. Cautiously I reached over, touching the stone. It was warm. The strange lines in its depths were darker now, and others shadows rippled across its surface.

Relaxing I picked it up in both hands. It must’ve needed time to complete, or be touched by sunlight. I took it closer to the cave opening, letting whatever sun there was hit it. I hesitated at the edge, looking down at the far drop to the earth below. Once again hairs rose on the back of my neck.

What was wrong with me today? Was I just anxious all of a sudden?

The stone grew warmed in my hands. I turned my attention to it again. Symbols, similar to those in the ink drawing, were starting to appear on it. “Couldn’t have shown ‘sun’ somehow, could it?”

I made a face and watched at the symbols grew darker and darker. Well, it wasn’t like the thing on Magnum’s safe. I felt a thrill of excitement for finding something new.

After a few minutes, the stone stopped changing and I retreated back inside. Standing over the tome I lifted the stone to eye level and looked at it critically. I traced the lines and symbols with a finger. It felt even warmer now, almost uncomfortably so.

Suddenly the thing in my hand trembled, unfolding along those lines, something hot and bright flaring within.

I jumped, nearly dropping the thing. Steam flowed out, whatever was inside, shooting upwards.

I yelped, trying not to drop it as I scurried to the entrance. “No, no, no! Gah, what is this thing?”

The moment I reached the edge, I gave a good, solid toss down, letting the thing plummet.

~POV Switch~

He was starting to wonder if they’d have to sleep on the rocky wall. They were a little over halfway up by now. He was exhausted, his will to live about the only thing keeping him from falling.

One of the men above him placed his hand on a small ledge, which promptly fell apart. As other hurried to help him get a better grip, Finn watched what fell. It wasn’t just rock. There was something else there, something unusual.

Finn knew right then, that there was definitely someone up there, and they most definitely knew about magic.

~POV Switch~

Hurried slamming the tome shut, I heaved it off the table and back to Magnum’s stack of magic books, fighting to get it back in its spot. The books were dusty, the thick pages spitting out plumes if I wasn’t careful with them.

Then I was done, every in the cave exactly as before. I sat down slowly on my pallet, breathing a sigh of relief and leaning back again the wall. “Okay, problem solved . . . and Magnum thinks I can’t handle things. I can!” I wondered if tossing it outside really counted as handling things.

For a few minutes I just sat there, calming my nerves and letting my thoughts run where they would. Where would Magnum take me, when he got back? There was so much I’d heard about, that I wanted to see . . . all these things I knew, yet really had no idea about.

I pulled out my satchel and opened it, looking over all the stuff Melody had given me. She had shown me things Magnum hadn’t. All these wondrous items of strange places. I fingered each object, loving the feel of them, the foreignness.

Time passed, afternoon slowly approaching evening. Magnum would be back tomorrow, seeing as he wasn’t back now. I repacked my satchel and left it out, for once. I wondered if I could call Melody, even if it wasn’t our arranged meeting time. She might hear me anyways.

I walked out to the edge, just about to whistle our signal tune, when something made me look down.

There, clinging to the cliff face not too far down, were people.

My mind reeled. People, actual real life people, who had climbed up here, doing what was – supposed to be – an impossible climb. I stared in shock. One in the lead, with determined blue eyes, was looking up, but hadn’t noticed me.

I pressed my mouth tightly shut and took slow, quiet steps backwards. The moment I was deeply inside I became a flurry of movement, unsure what to do and my heart pounding fit to burst, struggling to keep quiet.

I tossed a blanket over Magnum’s books and supplies, thinking to keep his magic things a secret. What else, what else? Funnily enough, this had never been mentioned before!

There were sounds, outside. When I looked I saw hands gripping at the ledge, knuckles white. Panic overtook me. I snatched up my sword and held it in front of me, retreating into a back corner. Great Teller, what was I supposed to do?

A moment later a person pulled themselves up into the cave. I was glad to shadows half hid me, so they wouldn’t see my wide, staring eyes.

They groaned, pushing themselves to their knees. More hands appeared, and they helped another person up. More people joined – four, five, six in all, milling about the entrance. They hadn’t seen me.

One gave a low whistle, “Looks like you were right, Finn. Someone has been living up here.”

The first to climb in nodded. “The question is who.” That one seemed younger than the others, less rough and tense. All of them started moving inside, looking at things interestedly. I couldn’t let this just happen.

“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice a lot more confident than I felt, as I stepped forward, holding my sword in front of me. They all stilled and looked at me, shock written on their faces.

It might of been my imagination, but they seemed to push the one called Finn forward. I held my sword point directly at their chest. It shook less than I thought it would. “Who are you?” I demanded again, “how did you get up here?” Stupid question, I thought afterwards.

I watched warily as the one in front of me slowly raised his hands, showing them empty. “We climbed up. Wasn’t easy, but we did.”

“Why?” I asked, “How’d you know I was here – and who are you?”

A slight step closer. I lifted my sword higher. They did a sort of shrug. “I’m Finn. These others are John, Demetri, Bob, Eldon, and Marceus. And we didn’t know you were here, exactly, we just knew someone was from the smell and yelling.”

Mentally I cursed ever finding that page. “Right. Now get out.” Another move closer, another shift of my sword.

“Couldn’t we –”

“No. Get out.” A bit closer still. I readjusted my grip. I was surprised none of them could hear the pounding of my heart, or the unsteadiness in my breathing. The tip of my blade was beginning to waver, my hands shaking just the tiniest bit. Curious eyes were focused on me, just me. I tried my best for a defiant stance.

Suddenly the features cleared. “Oh, you’re a girl.” The tone was relieved.

I struggled to hide my confusion, a blank expression flashing over my face. “What’s a girl?”

This Finn choked, the others fighting back some bizarre form of laughter. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? What is it?”

“It’s, uh –” their face was red. “Well . . . you.” Vague gesture that confused me more. “You know, you’re a girl, female, you look like . . . that. And I’m a – a boy, a guy, male, same as the others. Everyone’s one or the other, girls are like you, smaller and . . . stuff. Guys are like us, sorta. Taller, stronger, that sort of thing. I can’t believe I’m trying to explain this.”

I lowered my sword a little, eyeing them. “You’re barely explaining anything.”

“Great . . . uh, humans are either boy or girl . . . we look different. We act different. Please tell me you’re getting this.”

I thought for a moment, a connection with what I knew forming. “Oh.” I felt stupid for a moment, and it probably showed on my face. “You mean like subspecies,” I said brightly, lowering my sword more.

It was his turn to look confused. “Huh?”

“Subspecies,” I said, “Same species, but they look different on the outside. Like how some creatures have different colours, or one of the subs has, like, horns and the other doesn’t. I knew humans had subspecies, or were supposed to, at any rate. I didn’t know they had separate names. It’s kinda silly.”

“. . . Yes, right, exactly that! Subspecies, only we have different names. You . . . figured it out perfectly . . . um, can we just move on? So, uh, who are you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m Thyra.”

He nodded slowly. “So, I’m taking it you live here.”

I felt like I was treading on ice, uncertain and confused of what to do. “Why does that matter?” I raised my sword again, feeling a little safer behind sharp steel. He immediately made what I assumed was supposed to be calming motions with his hands.

“Just trying to understand what’s happening,” he said. “Honestly finding it a bit . . . unusual.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” I snapped before I even registered the words. He looked back at the others, briefly. I wondered if they could somehow communicate like that – was such a thing even possible? I’d never really asked Magnum.

Bright blue eyes were focused on me again. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I am.” I drew myself up, probably not looking impressive like Magnum did whenever he did the same. At least this Finn guy didn’t look amused, like the others. He let the subject about my being here drop, quiet falling as he glanced around.

“Do you know any magic, Thyra?”

“No.” It was hard to fight the look that always crossed my face when I thought about the subject – one of bitter disappointment. “Hold on,” I jerked my sword up from where it had been pointed to the ground, “why am I answering you’re questions? You’re the ones that – whatever, you know – just showed up.”

“Yes, well, sorry about that,” he said.

“No you’re not, you climb up in the first place.”

“We wanted to know what was up here, no one lives in the mountains.”

“That’s like knowing something’s explosive and going to poke it with a stick anyways.”

“Are you always like this?”

“Probably, I dunno. Then again, you’re the ones trespassing! Oh hey, that’s the word I was thinking of.”

From the looks I was getting, I questioned for the first time if the life up here at left a mark in my brain, making me a little funny. I didn’t think I was, and neither did Magnum, but maybe we both were. That could work plausibly, right? You couldn’t have chosen today to come home, could you? I thought angrily.

My sword had lowered again, allowing the others to seem more confident. Annoying speaker decided to keep talking. “This may not be the smartest question while you’re still holding it, but . . . can you actually use that sword?”

I snapped the blade up. “Of course I can!” My voice sounded harsh, even to me.

He blinked. “Right, sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.” It wasn’t insulting, I thought, since I don’t actually know. “Please put the sword down.”

I frowned. “Why should I?”

“Because I want to talk, not get into a fight, and you’re making me nervous,” he said. I was so surprised by this remark that I complied, setting my sword within reach on a table and folding my arms tightly, scowling at them all.

“There,” I growled. “Though you should still get out.”

“I was hoping we could rest here for the night, before climbing back down,” he told me.

“No.”

There were mutters from the others, loud enough that I could hear them, though I doubted I was meant to. “This isn’t going well.” “Whatever happened to the old Finn charm?” “She’s off her rocker, she is.” “Like a corner animal.”

“Excuse me,” I snapped, “but I can hear you and you’re being rude!” They fell quiet, looking at me in a way that made my flesh goosepimple and my stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Sharp ears,” one commented, “’specially for living alone.”

“I don’t live alone,” I said automatically, “if I did I’d starve!”

I could feel the tension that immediately started to build. “So the other person is . . . ?”

“Not here, of course,” I glared at them all. “If he was here, you’d be regretting to moment you thought to climb up here!”

“He.”

“Yes.”

“And he knows magic.”

I was thoroughly confused. These questions and replies didn’t make any sense. With Magnum I could tell when he kept stuff back, or when he didn’t want to talk. These people were . . . were like trying to read Melody. Constantly changing and impossible.

Apparently the lost look on my face was enough of an answer for them. “So you were raised by a man who knows magic. You’re father?”

“He’s not my father.”

“. . . What?”

“He raised me, but he insisted he wasn’t my father,” I explained. “Though I really don’t get quite what the difference is.”

“Obviously not. I take it he has a name?” The expression in his eyes, it was almost familiar . . . my sense of unease rose.

“Of course,” I said, my voice seeming to shake. “Everything has a name.”

“Then, who is he?”

“Well, I know he was someone else – or multiple people . . . still a bit confused on that . . . right now he has me call him Magnum.” Tension rose so thick I could hardly breathe. Their faces changed, turning nasty and mean. I took a half step back.

“The Black,” someone snarled.

“Grab her,” he said.

Then everything was a blur. I remember reaching for my sword, only for something to crash into me. I fell, hitting the ground hard. There was weight on me, and hands, grabbing. I let out a shriek, twisting wildly. My hand connected with something, leaving it smarting.

I was yelling something, and so was someone else. I trashed about for freedom, until my back collided with something, driving the air from my lungs. Hands were yanking on my arms, forcing them behind me. I tried to pull away, but they were strong, very strong.

The roughness of rope was against my wrists, so tight it bite and burn. Desperately I turned away, only to be hauled back. They put something over my mouth, making it impossible to speak, choking me.

Someone pushed me, I sat down hard. My chest was heaving, anger and despair warring inside me. I struggled vainly at the bonds on my wrist. I looked around hurriedly, scared. If . . . if I could just find something sharp . . . my sword was out of reach . . . maybe a knife or – or anything.

It was him, the one who had spoken and tricked me, who knelt down in front of me. “I am sorry,” he said, “truly I am. But we’re hunting that man you live with – he’s evil, the worst sort of person – and we need some leverage, if we’re going to reason with him.”

Liar! I wanted to scream. Liar! Magnum’s good! He’s not evil! All I produced was a coughing sort of sound, so I settled for trying to tackle him.

Another person caught me and threw me back down before I even got close. “She’s too much trouble like this.”

“No, don’t you dare –!”

Pain exploded in my skull. And then I was falling . . . falling into nothingness.

----

My arms were cramped. That was the first thing I noticed when I came back to myself. The next thing was that my head ached. Perhaps I’d imagined the whole thing. Maybe I’d passed out from the smoke and hallucinated.

Wait, no. There were voices now. And I could feel the gag around my mouth and the ropes tight on my wrists. My eyes snapped open, a dizzying display of shapes and shadows assaulting me. Against my better judgement, I groaned. The cave fell silent. Maybe they were all gone and had left me.

I sat up, which took several minute because I kept losing my balance and causing everything to swim around me.

I blinked rapidly, trying to take in what had happened. The strong daylight hurt my eyes. I’d been out for almost a full day. Everything was off, though not enough that I couldn’t see the people and what they had done. They were standing or sitting. In the time passed they’d uncovered Magnum’s safe and his tomes and works.

I been so focused on the big picture, I dimly noticed someone crouching down next to me. I turned the best angry face I could manage towards him, which wasn’t easy since inside I was terrified, my heart beating quick enough for two. I wanted to curl into a ball and vanish. I had to be strong, though. I couldn’t let something happen to Magnum since I was foolish.

“Are you okay?” He reached out towards me. I jerked away, snarling. He pulled back as if burned. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this, you know,” he said quietly. I ignored him, glaring at the ground. I need a plan of some sort.

“You’re heart’s too soft, Finn,” one called out, laughter in his voice. “The girl doesn’t matter.”

He looked at the other person, a complicated expression on his face. “She’s a person too. Wild, maybe, but I hardly think knocking her out will put the Black in a good mood.” The reply was quiet, something about Magnum never being in a good mood. I’d stopped paying attention. My fingers were working furiously at the knots.

If I could just get these ropes undone I could . . . what? I was helpless while all of them were still in the cave. Still, I guessed I’d be in a better position and my wrists wouldn’t feel nearly as bad as they did now.

The knots weren’t coming undone. My fingers couldn’t grasp the strands. I needed a knife, or some sort of blade. Or just anything sharp. I looked around again. They’d made sure to keep anything potentially useful away from me.

Wait a moment, I realized I was on my pallet now, somehow. I looked over and saw they hadn’t moved my bag. There was a shell Melody had brought, it was hard and fairly sharp, faded scratches on my hands were testimony to that. I inched sideways. No one noticed me. I moved further sideways, nearly falling over, catching myself just in time.

I froze for a moment, sure someone must’ve heard something. There wasn’t a reaction. Cautiously I stretched my hands of behind me, fingers fumbling blindly at the strap of my satchel. There, finally I had a hold. I began sliding it closer. It made a rustling sound. My hands felt sweaty.

The satchel reached my hands. I forced the flap open, digging around inside. I felt each object, knowing them all instantly. I felt them so much I had them memorized. I wormed my hands in deeper. Awkwardly, I felt the cool smoothness of the shell pressed against my palms.

I pulled it out and shifted myself away. I didn’t want to get them suspicious or something, seeing as they hadn’t noticed my movements quite yet. Rolling the shell through my fingers I began sawing frantically at the ropes.

“So how long we supposed to stay in this hole for?” someone asked.

“Until the Black returns, stupid,” another one retorted. “Or do you suddenly have a way of tracking him down yourself?”

One of them tossed something against the wall so it shattered. “Just ask the girl, I bet she knows.”

I made an angry sound of protest. I wasn’t going to tell them anything. A few of them looked at me. “We could try and make her talk.”

“No.” His silhouette blocked out a good deal of sight when he stepped in front of me. I sawed faster at the ropes. “Guys, we already have her as a hostage, I don’t think we need to add torture to the list – the Black would probably be a lot less reasonable then.” That didn’t seem to really convince them. “Okay, then how about this, when we’re finished with this job I’ll let everyone know you tortured a helpless girl. I’m sure you’ll get jobs then.”

I paused in my sawing. Was it just me, or did I seem like the fact I was part of one half of humans somehow make me lesser than the other half? Bizarre. Must’ve been imagining it. I resumed trying to break through the ropes. My hands were hurting.

Someone snarled, “You’re taking the honest thing to far, Finn.”

“Look at it this way; I got a reputation to protect as much as you do.” Secretly I hoped they’d toss him over the edge. One less person to deal with was one step closer to fixing this on my own.

Snap. One of the strands broke. I felt the bonds loosen on my wrist. I pulled; they didn’t come off, only biting in deeper. I forced myself to keep hacking away, ignoring the cramping of my fingers. A glance up told me they were having a stare off. It was a lot less intimidating than one with Magnum, yet a chill still passed through me.

“Bah,” one of them took out a knife and a whetstone. “This is a waste of time. The girl could have been abandoned here, for all we know.”

“Not so,” another interrupted. “The foods too fresh, so he can’t have been gone long, and the girl hardly seems concerned about being stuck up here. My guess is, he went out on business, leaving the girl to take care of herself a while, and that he’s done this multiple times before.”

I paused in the sawing. How’d he figured it out so quickly? It didn’t seem to me like that’d be obvious. I shook my head furiously for being distracted and kept sawing.

“Oddly perceptive, Bob.” He was still blocking my view. I wished this Finn would move, before I gave into my anger and tackled him from behind.

“Eeh, I’m on edge, this place is giving me the willies. To think this has been the Black’s lair for nineteen years.”

I froze. I don’t know why, but I did. Something made me stop moving. I could hear my blood rushing in my head, an eerie tune.

From the tone I would’ve thought narrowed eyes and a suspicious look, even if I couldn’t see a thing. “You think?”

“The girl seems to agree with me.”

The silhouette shifted, a head turning back to face me. “I wonder if she knows how foul the man who raised her really is.” I tried to scream angrily at him. All that came out were sounds of nonsense. True, Magnum’s punishment might’ve been considered harsh, but I knew I always deserved them and he didn’t do them lightly.

The shadow was gone, my sight abruptly clear as he knelt down not too far from me.

“I don’t think you do,” he said quietly. His expression was so somber I fell quiet. “That man, Magnum, he was once known as Magnum of the Circle. Then he broke it, and became known as the Black, or the Traitor.”

Confusion engulfed me. Magnum, part of the Circle? He’d only told me a little about them, in a very broad way, and Melody had given me a few more scant details. Surely this couldn’t be right – Magnum couldn’t have been one of them. He’d have to be a Weaver, than, and his age would be . . . no, it was insane!

Apparently Finn wasn’t done speaking. “He broke the Circle, suddenly there were four instead of five. He destroyed a trust that had been laid on him since the beginning of our world, one he’d kept for about ten thousand years. He betrayed them all for Darkness.”

I tried to scream again. Magnum would never ally himself with darkness. Never.

I was ignored, him speaking over me. “He was working with Darkness, using his knowledge of both sides to forge weapons like never before for it. If he’d succeeded, we’d all be dead or slaves to Darkness. The Circle found out just in time, and he fled. No one ever saw him again, or knew where he went.” A twisted smile grew on his face. “Until now, that is.”

He looked at me for a long moment, I trying to scream and only managing to rob myself of air, then he stood and moved away. Eventually I fell silent, too tired to bother any more. My head felt empty and my stomach was hollow. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and I could hardly ask. Not that I would, with these awful people.

I wondered idly if all people were like this as I continued to hack at the ropes. I could feel pieces of the shell flacking off, even though my hands had practically numbed out long ago. A stab of some feeling hit me, for wrecking one of Melody’s gifts like this. I have no choice, I told myself, I have no choice.

Another strand snapped, and another. The rope didn’t rub my wrists as much now. There was a tension in the cave, so thick and heavy I thought I might collapse under it. Outside, sunlight was thick and yellow. Ordinarily, I would climb on a day like this. But Magnum wasn’t here, and these people were.

Snap, snap! I was through. Trembling, my fingers let go of the shell. It fell to the floor with a small sound. I was sure one of them noticed, but they made no comment. My hands scrambling I flicked off the remains of rope. My wrists ached anew, a fire creeping along the skin. I kept my arms behind me, just in case.

My heart was pounding so hard it might burst. I felt sick to my stomach, a fluttering feeling that made me want to hurl. I longed to rip off the gag and breathe and speak freely. When would Magnum get back? It was the fifth day, he never came back late. Early, maybe, but never late.

Suddenly the hair rose on the back of my neck, and a ringing sound in my ears. I knew what that meant. Over the years I’d developed the ability to tell when Magnum was returning when he didn’t particularly want to hide it from me, or if I didn’t want to hide from him. He was there, almost just outside. The ringing was dying down, and that meant . . .

I threw myself forward, leaping to my feet and bolting for the entrance, ripping the gag free. “Magnum!” I screamed. “Magnum stop! It’s a trap!” I caught one, brief glimpse of him, looking up at me, his face whiter than I’d ever seen. And then I was being hauled bodily back, away from the edge and thrown to the ground.

I coughed and blinked, pushing myself to my knees, limbs aching. Magnum was standing just inside the entrance, hand hovering over his broadsword hilt, every inch of him ready. He looked more worried than I’d ever seen him. He wasn’t looking at me, instead his dark eyes focused intently on the people who’d invaded.

“The Black,” someone said, who I wasn’t sure. “Looks like we were right about this being your hideout.” Out of nowhere there was gripping my upper arm, dragging me to my feet. I struggled; the grip felt like steel.

“I don’t care who sent you, or why,” Magnum said levelly, “just let Thyra go.”

There was a subtle shifting in all their stance, as if they were getting ready for something. “Well, look at that, the Black has a heart.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing, what you’re changing,” Magnum told them.

“Excuse me,” I said, a little indignantly, trying to break free of the grip, “but I’m not an experiment!”

One of his iconic dry smiles touched Magnum’s lips. “Indeed not, but neither are you unimportant.” That honestly had to be one of the most riddle-esque things he’d ever said to me, and that was saying a lot. I looked at him, lost; which he didn’t notice since the others still held his attention.

“Let Thyra go, and we can talk about this rationally,” Magnum continued.

“No way, Black, you can’t be trusted.” Someone moved forward, a weapon bared and ready. “You’re coming with us, back to the Crystal Tower. When we’re confident you won’t cause problems, the girl can go free.”

Magnum drew his broadsword, dark against the sunlight behind it. “Then we have a problem, because I don’t make bargains with thugs. She is not simply a girl, her name is Thyra, and if you have harmed or scared her in any way, then I swear you will regret it very much.”

“They knocked me out and tied me up,” I informed him.

One of them, the blue-eyed one, whipped his head back to look at me. “Not. Helping.”

“Hey, I’m on his side!” I tried to kick him; it didn’t go so well with the person holding my arm. He simply moved out of range.

Magnum wore another dry smile, his eyes dark and cold. “You will let her go.”

“No. Somebody grab him.”

Two people moved in, ready with their deadly implements. My heart drummed frantically. It was Magnum who moved first.

For a moment I was stunned. I’d never actually seen him fight before. The others seemed lumbering, jerky mannikins compared to how easy he flowed from one form to the next. It occurred to me that I had been taught, truly, by the best.

Right from the start, I saw how his opponents tried to disarm and over power him, and how Magnum sought to tire them out. I saw how even when he gained more adversaries, he didn’t change the way he fought. I stopped noticing things when the fight was suddenly almost on top of me and I was released so quickly that I fell into a table.

I backed away from the confusion, searching desperately for something I could do to help. My eyes saw my sword in its scabbard on a table. That was no good, I’d get myself killed if I entered that fray. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for even a moment of magic!

Someone was falling towards me. I yelped and dodged, scurrying to the other side of the cave. The noise, metal on metal and voices yelling, was the loudest thing I ever heard. For a brief moment I could see with absolute clarity, and it scared me, because Magnum was no longer winning. And I knew him, he wouldn’t use magic to take the advantage.

The fight was slowing down now, one or two peeling back. I wanted to rush in and help, yet how could I? I was a half-baked fighter, and completely non-existent mage. It was a little quieter, voices dying hoarsely and the ringing of clashing blades weak in comparison to earlier.

Time seemed to almost stop. Magnum was on his knees, breathing loud and irregular. “Thyra,” he gasped, “you must get out of here. You’re a Weaver. Now go.” I was rooted in place, frozen in utter shock and disbelief. Bewildered faces were turning to me. “Go!”

I reacted instinctively, spinning and snatching my sword and satchel faster than I could think. I was practically running, hands reaching to grab me. I was on the tables, darting, leaping, dodging, faster than I’d ever been. I found myself pushing off and there was suddenly nothing beneath me.

Reality hit me like a shock. Air whistled by, deafeningly loud and freezing cold. I would hit the bottom, and I would die. I was tumbling wildly, unable to breath. A white flash exploded above me. A shadow swooped underneath. There was a jolt and I was in darkness.