Chapter Six -- Unwelcome

“Minstrels,” a drunken friend of her father's had once told Kayla, “are the most dissolute, wretched people in the world. Discounting Warlocks, of course, because you know they're not really people.” Even her father, when he had looked at hiring a troupe for the festival, had spoken of minstrels with disdain. Kayla had tried to find work as a musician, which was only slightly better, but at least she wouldn't have been a traveling musician. She had hoped to find steady work, staying in one place. Maybe even find work as something other than a musician, if she could pick up some useful skill along the way.

And now? Now, she had just agreed to join a traveling show, wandering band of minstrels. Well, she had already run away from home, why shouldn't she sink lower? That was a bitter thought. Besides... she couldn't help it, she found herself almost liking these people. Well, at least Kardal, and maybe Jojo. The others she wasn't so sure about. Still, it was going to take some time to adjust to the idea.

Unfortunately, she wasn't going to get time. She had other things to worry about... like the fact that the only available bed was in Rhianne's wagon. Rhianne who still objected to her presence and was, at the moment, looking at her like she was either a dangerously poisonous snake or particularly disgusting bug.

“Well, come on, Cara,” Rhianne said to Kayla through clenched teeth. She would obey the Maestro, it seemed, no matter how much she wanted to do otherwise. Kayla, for her part, figured it would be easier for both of them if she just kept silent. Except on one point, that seemed to be Rhianne's biggest problem with her.

“What makes you think I'm from the Guild?” she asked, following the angry woman's quick strides. Kayla was surprised at how quickly Rhianne moved; she was short and much older than Kayla. Kayla smirked at the idea that Rhianne was powered by spite, explaining how she could move so fast. She was still smirking when Rhianne looked back to answer.

“Probably the fact that you are,” she sneered.

“Oh, and you can tell that by looking at me?” Kayla shot back sarcastically. She was actually rather worried about this; how was she to hide, if it was so obvious where she came from?

“Yes.” Kayla found herself getting annoyed with her new roommate. Why was she being so unhelpful?

“May I ask how?” she asked. Rhianne stopped so suddenly that Kayla smacked into her, knocking them both down.

“Get off!” Rhianne shrieked. Kayla did so, awkwardly, muttering apologies the whole time. “No, I won't tell you anything, I'd rather you just went back where you came from but obviously I can't have that. In lieu of that, stay out of my way and don't talk to me, okay?”

“It's going to be hard to stay out of your way when I'm living with you,” Kayla murmured, not really expecting Rhianne to hear her. Thankfully, she didn't. It was going to be an interesting... Kayla realized she had no idea how long she would be with these people. Just until the next big town? A few weeks? A few months? A few... years? Something else Kayla was not ready to think about just yet.

Rhianne's wagon was not large, but Jojo had assured Kayla that it was big enough for two. From the look that Rhianne gave him, Kayla was sure there was more to that comment than met the eye, but Kayla had no idea what it was. Rhianne was a lot older than Jojo; Kayla would have guessed her to be in her forties, where Jojo was thirty at most. At least, so far as Kayla could tell; she had never been terribly good at guessing ages. Growing up around the guild skewed things, as Mages aged differently than people that didn't use magic. They got old fast, but stayed old a long time-- something about magic use extended their lives, though it always seemed to Kayla that the availability of healing spells might have something to do with that.

“Stay out here!” Rhianne snapped as they reached the door to the wagon. Not wanting a fight, Kayla did so. Rhianne stomped up the steps-- Kayla realized that there was an extra step to her wagon, probably added because she was so short-- and slammed the door open and closed again. Kayla wasn't trying to listen, but it was hard to ignore the sounds from the wagon. It sounded to Kayla like Rhianne was hastily hiding things she didn't want Kayla to see. Kayla wondered what Rhianne had to hide... from the Guild, she realized. Rhianne thought she was from the Guild. She was, in a way, but she wasn't about to go running to them with tales of her new companions. That would defeat the purpose of hiding.

The door to the wagon jerked open, interrupting Kayla's thoughts. “All right, come on in,” Rhianne grumped from the wagon, with a mockingly welcoming gesture. Kayla stepped up into the wagon. She had never felt less welcome anywhere in her life.

“Okay, Julian, tell me what you know about how magic works,” Adli began, sitting down at the table full of notes where Julian was already seated, looking eager and wary. The boy looked confused for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

“Well,” he started, but stopped again. Adli let him have his time; it was not something Mages were encouraged to think about and so they rarely did. “I think it channels through a Mage's focus,” he said, sounding unsure. “A Mage can use different foci, but there is always one that works best,” he went on. “One that the Mage connects with. Once a Mage connects with a focus, no other Mage can use it. Um... I really don't know much else,” he finished. Adli nodded.

“A good start.” Adli looked down at the page in front of him. That page was unnecessary-- too many young men and women didn't even know that much about foci. He should have expected it, though; Julian had his true focus, had found it a few years ago. “How is a focus found?” he asked.

Julian seemed to be gaining confidence; he took very little time to answer this time. “Trial and error. A Mage can find the correct type he should be using, and from there keep trying randomly until he finds the right one. Sometimes a focus is unusual,” he said with a smile, “and generally a Mage with an unusual focus takes a long time to find the right one. An apprentice cannot achieve full Mage status until he has found his True Focus.”

“Concisely put,” Adli said. It was all straight out of Hopeful classes, just summarized. He would have to get the boy thinking for himself. Not that he didn’t do so already, but in this matter specifically it was generally a difficult process. People assumed that what they learned in school was all they needed to know. Adli was contemplating how to start when Julian interrupted his thoughts.

“Of course, I found mine faster than a Mage with one of the general types usually does, so either I’m an exception to the rule, or the rule wasn’t accurate to begin with. It even made a lot of sense; I played at dice all the time, so why wouldn’t I have an affinity for dice? But then, if that was how it worked, we’d have a lot more book Mages here,” he finished with a smirk. Adli chuckled.

“I’m sure I’d be one of them, instead of a lowly obsidian Mage, eh?” Julian laughed and looked at him thoughtfully.

“I don’t know, obsidian suits you rather well; it pretends to be dark and mysterious but is actually clear as glass,” he jibed. Adli rewarded him with a smirk and a mocking glare.

“Clear as glass? Then can you tell me why I’m asking you about foci?” Joking with Julian was fun, but there were more important things afoot. It was time the boy’s education took the turn the other Mages feared it would when Adli took him as an apprentice.

Julian eyed him, weighing something in his mind. Adli was proud of him for not just answering quickly; there was a sharp mind underneath that youthful arrogance. “I imagine it leads into whatever you wanted to teach me about, which I know has something to do with the warlocks. Beyond that I have no idea.” Adli nodded.

“You know that I study things the other Mages… discourage,” he said, avoiding using the word forbid. Julian was enough of a rebel that he would leap at the chance to acquire forbidden knowledge, but it wasn’t wise to encourage him that way. The boy just nodded. “Specifically, the study of magic itself, how it works.”

“Why is it forbidden?” Julian interrupted. “Wouldn’t it be better if we understood it?”

“You will understand when I have told you all I know,” Adli answered. There was a strange light in Julian’s eyes that Adli did not like. He hoped that he was not aiding the warlocks in recruiting the boy by doing this. He didn’t think so, but the chance was there. It was a risk he had to take.

Chapter Five -- Because

“What?” Kayla shouted. She turned to look when she realized that hers was not the only voice that had spoken; Rhianne-- Kayla had picked up that name, at least-- was looking murderous, and the rest of the group looked mostly shocked. The man that had healed her-- Kardal, she figured-- was smirking; apparently he enjoyed the surprise of the others.

“You all heard me,” the Maestro was saying to the group, “she's going to be traveling with us for a while.” He was still standing in the door to his wagon; he hadn't even bothered to come down to meet her before deciding this. As Kayla mused on her annoyance at this fact, the Maestro turned to look at her again. His eyes met hers; she was sure he could tell she was angry. He smiled.

“If, of course, she wishes to. Well, Miss Cara?” His voice was sweeter than it should have been; did he think his little 'family' was so great that no one would refuse the offer?

“Why are you calling me Cara?” she heard herself ask. There were plenty of other, probably better questions she could be asking, but that was the one that formed itself first in her mind, and thus was the first one that actually came out. The Maestro smiled an annoyingly bright smile, but it was Kardal that answered her, placing a hand on her shoulder and speaking softly to her.

“Your given name is a danger to you now. We give you another one, and do not ask what your old one was.” That made sense, she thought. That annoyed her. She looked back up to the Maestro; he was engaged in some kind of staring contest with Rhianne. She turned back to Kardal, who at least seemed friendly.

“What did he mean, welcome to the family? Why does he think I am joining you?” Kardal smirked. At least, Kayla thought it was a smirk. It was hard to tell beneath the ever-present knowing smile.

“Because I told him you should.” That was what the voice reminded her of, Kayla realized; hummingbirds. Not that his voice sounded in any way like the sound of a hummingbird. It just reminded her of them, for no reason she could put a finger on.

“Why?”

“Because you should.”

“Why should I?” she tried again.

“Because it would be best, I think.” Kayla was growing irritated with this; there would never be any real answers, just a long string of short responses that gave no answers.

“Why would the Maestro assume I was joining the… family… just because you told him I should?” Kayla hesitated on the word family; she still had no idea what kind of people this group was comprised of. Kardal was definitely smirking now.

“Because he knows that I am right.”

“And he always listens to you?”

“No, not always, but in matters like this, yes.” Kardal looked up towards the Maestro’s wagon. “I think he is waiting for your answer, Child.” Kayla started to turn, but thought of one last question to ask her new sort of friend.

“What does the name Cara mean?”

“That, I think, is for the Maestro to tell you.” Kayla just sighed and turned back to the man in question. Sure enough, he was waiting, watching her. For a moment he didn’t seem to realize that she had turned to him; the cockiness that had annoyed her before was gone, and he looked uneasy. As soon as she met his eyes, though, he smiled an arrogant smile and spoke.

“Well? Will you deign to join our humble troupe?” he asked. Kayla just nodded. She didn’t really understand it, but they were offering to hide her, and they would see to it that she was fed and sheltered. That, and she had a feeling she knew what they were. She had seen them before, she recalled, on the night she ran away from home. They had been performing at the festival that the Guild held to celebrate the raising of apprentices.

They were minstrels.

Julian walked out of the tavern feeling unclean, more than he ever had when he was just a dice playing street urchin. Then it had been steal or starve, and bathing was a luxury he had never understood, but at least then he had not been sent to talk with… them. The worst part was… the man’s words made some sense. Oh, he had not come out and said who he was, not yet. Julian would have to come back to the tavern a few more times, talk with him more, before he would even hint at what he was actually proposing. The whole point was to lure men like Julian in, make them think it was actually a good idea. You couldn’t come out and say you were a Warlock if you wanted a Mage candidate to listen to a word you said. But Julian knew; he had gone to the tavern to talk to a Warlock.

Adli had predicted (correctly, Julian knew) that they would jump at the chance to turn Julian. Adli was certain they had people inside the Guild’s organization (not the Guild itself, perhaps, but close by) that fed them information on who might be likely to join them. Julian was young, good with combat magic as well as physical fighting, and rebellious. What was there not to like, for someone looking for recruits? Besides, of course, a mind. They couldn’t be looking for anyone that actually had more than two thoughts of their own a week.

But somehow, even knowing what to be ready for, even knowing how wrong these people were, Julian found himself listening to what the man had said, nodding in agreement occasionally. There were things the Guild forbade, things that didn’t make any sense to Julian. The Guild discouraged any study of magic itself, which had always made Julian wonder; shouldn’t they encourage their Mages to know about what they did and how it worked? That alone would have been enough to get Julian questioning. There had been other things, too, darker things. That was why Julian wanted to run home and scrub himself until the memory had been washed away. Because he had listened, and had not found the ideas repugnant.

These people had Kayla, he told himself. They might, anyway, but even if it were only a remote chance it was worth anything to get her back from them. He didn’t know what they would do with her, but he knew it would not be anything good. If he could help get her back by making contact with these monsters, he would suffer all the unclean feelings in the world.

“Hey stranger.” Julian turned to see the source of the voice; a man hidden in shadows was beckoning him. That probably meant there were two others behind Julian waiting to either stab him or steal from him, or most likely both. Julian took a step forward anyway, and clutched the pouch at his waist. Let them think that was his purse, he thought grimly, and it would be the last thought they ever had.

“What do you want?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder momentarily but seeing no immediate threat.

“Care for a dice game?” the man asked, holding out a pair of hand carved wooden dice. Julian tried to hold back his laughter; there was still a possibility that there were men behind him. The kind of men who held their dice games in the street rather than in the taverns where there were anti-cheating spells were not the kind of men he wanted to play with. Even his own gift for probability spellwork wouldn’t save him from loaded dice. He smiled, and grabbed the pouch where his hand had been hovering.

“Sure… if we can use mine,” he said, pouring the contents of the pouch into his hand. Out fell two large rubies, cut into cubes, with obsidian inlaid for the pips. They glinted in the moonlight. Julian watched as recognition stole over the man’s face.

“You stay the hell away from my game, mister,” he said, backing up.

“But you invited me… why won’t you let me play?” he taunted. The man shouted something Julian didn’t quite catch and disappeared down the alley into the shadows. Julian laughed softly to himself. The look on the man’s face had been priceless. Good to know that his reputation still held. He felt a little less dirty for his amusement, but not by much. With a sigh he continued the long walk home.

Adli waited up for Julian, wondering how much the boy had been able to learn from the Warlock tonight. Adli knew much of what the man would have said; they had tried to recruit him once, and every one of the few apprentices he had taken since then. Julian was smart, and understood a lot more than most eighteen year old boys did much of the time. How much would he have gleaned from the conversation? So Adli waited up.

“I want a bath,” Julian said as he came in the door. Adli smiled at that; he himself had felt the same way, once he figured out who it was that was trying to recruit him, and for what.

“I thought you might. There’s hot water ready.”

“Do they believe the stuff he told me?” Julian asked.

“I myself have wondered that. I don’t really have any way of asking them, so I’ve never figured out if it’s all a web of lies or if they truly think they are better than us.”

“They’re… mercenaries,” Julian said, saying the word with venom. “How can they feel morally superior? We do everything we can to avoid war. It’s… sick… to profit from it.” Adli nodded.

“So I have always believed, but… their words are oddly enticing, aren’t they?”

“That only makes it worse,” Julian responded. He turned to go, but stopped. “The Guild… why do they discourage it?” he asked, knowing that Adli would know what he meant. Adli hesitated. He knew exactly why the Guild did so. How could he explain it, though? It had taken him years of research to figure it out, research he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

“They… we think it better if certain things are not known. I have never spoken to you of the research I do that I have asked you not to speak of,” he said carefully. “I think it is time I did. Tomorrow,” he added. “For now, have your bath.” Julian looked like he was going to demand an explanation, but seemed to think better of it.

“Tomorrow. I hope this is worth it, old man,” Julian replied. Adli smiled. Few Mages would allow their apprentice to be so familiar, but Adli liked that the boy felt comfortable enough to joke with him.

“I hope so too.” He sincerely did. He was risking a lot, exposing Julian to the Warlocks. Adli had lost an apprentice to them once, and Julian reminded Adli very much of that young man. He did not want to lose Julian.

Long after Julian had bathed and gone to bed, Adli was up, deciding just how much he was going to tell his apprentice. It was a fine line, a dangerous line. But it had to be walked. The things that were worth finding in life were never found in safe places.

Chapter Four -- Kardal

“Look,” Rhianne said to the blonde woman, who was staring at her accusingly. “I didn’t do anything to her. She tripped and fell, and must have hurt herself then.” Rhianne knew they all thought her a hothead, but she really wasn’t responsible for this one. They could all thank Jojo for that. The girl was of the Guild. She wore a focus crystal on a chain around her neck. Rhianne didn’t care if she was an apprentice or a hopeful or what, she didn’t want anyone associated with the Guild around. It wasn’t safe.

“Tripped and fell,” the blonde repeated. “That doesn’t explain her collapsing as she’s brought into camp, Rhianne.”

“Do you see any marks on her, Vivica? I didn’t touch her.” Like she was some kind of psycho or something.

“She’s telling the truth,” Jojo chimed in from where he was leaning over the now unconscious girl. “There doesn’t appear to be anything wrong with her. In spite of Rhianne’s wishes, I believe.” The others had gathered around now, and made noises of protest.

“She’s from the Guild!” Rhianne shouted at them. They all took a step back at that, save Elliot who was staring at the girl as if he hadn’t noticed her before. He probably hadn’t, come to that.

“Are you sure?” Vivaca asked. Rhianne nodded, but offered no explanation. They only knew that she had good reason to avoid the Guild, they knew nothing of why. Much as they all might bicker, they stood by her in that. She did appreciate that much.

“I still say she’s harmless,” Jojo asserted. “She’s too young to be a Mage, she looks to young to even be apprenticed to one. And why would she be out here?” he explained. “But Rhianne says she’s dangerous… I say we ask the Maestro.”

“The Maestro?” Vivica repeated. “I say we ask Kardal. If he’s for her, I’m for her.” The others behind her nodded. It was a good idea, Rhianne reasoned. Kardal was unquestionably the wisest of them, and his judgment of people was sounder than most. Rhianne didn’t particularly like talking to the man; he was always mysterious and cryptic about everything. But it was true that if he trusted this little Guild-ling, she would do the same. Hell, that was probably what the Maestro would decide to do himself.

“We still talk to the Maestro,” Jojo asserted. “But first let’s see if we can find Kardal to ask him.” The various members of the group looked around, each hoping any of the others had any idea where the strange man might be. Rhianne herself had no idea where to even begin looking; he tended to go for long walks at night, no one ever saw where he went, and no one was ever awake when he came back so none of them knew when to expect him. It was a good idea… save that the man in question would be terribly hard to find.

Thus it was that Rhianne nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard his voice behind her.

Kayla awoke to the sounds of people bickering somewhere above her. It wasn’t until she heard the words ‘the Maestro’ that she remembered where she was and what had happened. The… no, she had decided they weren’t thieves or bandits. What were they? She wasn’t sure. Her head hurt, her ankle was throbbing, and she couldn’t seem to think straight. All the bickering going on wasn’t helping. Maybe she could ask them to stop shouting? Almost as she thought that, they did. She wished she had been paying attention to the conversation as she had no idea what course of action they had decided on. Could she risk opening her eyes, or were they watching her?

A quick peek revealed that the people from the camp had scattered; they were wandering about and appeared to be searching for something, or maybe someone. Kayla figured it would be safe to open her eyes and have a look around, since none of them were paying her any attention.

There wasn’t a lot to see in the camp site that she hadn’t seen before—garish wagons, large fire, instruments scattered about. Music, too, it looked like, though she couldn’t see from where she was. She didn’t feel comfortable enough about their inattention to her to move from where she was, so she didn’t go investigate. Instead, she decided to take a closer look at the nearest wagon… and found herself looking straight into the palest green eyes she had ever seen.

“Welcome, Wise Child,” said a lilting, musical male voice. The voice came from the man before her, the man that possessed those amazing eyes. Kayla had trouble focusing on anything other than his eyes, and perhaps he realized that; he closed them and bowed his head as if in greeting, allowing her to get a better look at the rest of his features. He had long, silvery white hair, but his features were smooth rather than wrinkled. Still, he had an air of age about him, along with one of… Kayla couldn’t quite place it. Peace, maybe, or wisdom. He wore a small smile that seemed to permeate his whole being.

“Hi,” Kayla responded, lamely. What exactly does one say to those… eyes… he was looking at her again, and once again she could not look away. A question nagged at her mind… “What did you call me?” she heard herself ask.

“It is your name, is it not? Wise Child. It is what your given name means,” he responded softly. “I imagine you do not wish your given name known, so I call you this instead.” Again he gave a slight bow, nodding his head and momentarily averting his eyes.

“Oh,” she said, feeling even more outclassed than she had before. How did this man know her name? Did those eyes let him read minds? The thought seized her heart in terror for a moment; such magic scared her more than any other she had encountered. For some reason Kayla couldn’t imagine this man as casting such invasive magic.

“You are hurt,” the man said when it became clear that Kayla was not good conversation at that particular moment. “May I?” he gestured with one effeminate hand towards her ankle. Kayla nodded before it really registered that he was offering healing, but wouldn’t have refused it in any case.

A strange sensation spread through the injured ankle; all the healing spells she had ever encountered were warm, sometimes hot to the person being healed. It was rare, but with a truly dangerous injury the healing could actually leave burns. This, on the other hand… well, it had the warmth she was used to, but it spread through her like cool water, and even as it burned and she felt the healing take hold, the coolness soothed the pain. Kayla simply stared as her benefactor finished the spell and smiled at her.

“Better?” he asked. She nodded. “Then perhaps I should allow the others to find me, that we may officially welcome you to our troupe,” he said, the small smile spreading slightly to indicate amusement. Kayla felt horribly out of her depth in talking to this man; she prayed he was not the Maestro.

A strange ripple passed through Kayla, and she felt as though a fog lifted. The strange man spoke to the woman that had first found Kayla, Rhianne, who was at the time standing right in front of them.

“You have no need to fear, Rhianne; this Child will do you no harm.”

One member of the troupe was still unaccounted for: the Maestro. Within the largest of the wagons, he watched the activity of his troupe with interest. It was always fun to observe others when they didn’t know you were there, but there was something exciting them tonight. A girl, it seemed—they had found a girl in the forest. He watched with interest as they bickered; they did not do that where he could hear. Disagree, yes; bicker, no. But then, he was the Maestro; they treated him with respect at all times.

Rhianne’s pronouncement that the girl was from the Guild surprised him. So young, how could she be associated with the Guild? He had thought they did not take anyone into apprenticeship until they were sixteen at least, and before that they weren’t a part of it, not really. But the Maestro couldn’t claim to be an expert on the Guild. Perhaps she was older than she looked.

He laughed to himself when they all scattered to locate Kardal. He himself barely knew anything about the strange man, but he did know that Kardal would not be found until he chose to be. It could be infuriating when you wanted to talk to him, but it was amusing when other people were being infuriated by it. The Maestro liked Kardal, in spite of all his… quirks.

So. The story was starting to take shape, the Maestro thought to himself. Rhianne naturally objected to the girl being brought here, if she was indeed of the Guild, and the Maestro had never known Rhianne to be wrong about that. Not that there had ever been much occasion… still. Rhianne didn’t want the girl here… it had probably been Jojo that brought her here, then. Jojo was one of few who could make Rhianne listen, or at least obey. Jojo had probably suggested asking the Maestro, he surmised, when someone else suggested Kardal. It was well known that the Maestro trusted Kardal’s judgment. More than that, he trusted his friend’s discretion… but the others didn’t see that so much.

And now they were searching for Kardal, to have him pronounce the girl a danger or not, before they would come to ‘wake’ him and tell him about the girl. The Maestro found himself hoping Kardal would let himself be found, soon. He wanted to know more about the girl. He could feel a change in the wind tonight… he laughed at himself for his thoughts. He had obviously been spending far too much time with Kardal. Speaking of… Kardal materialized out of the air behind Rhianne, causing her to shriek. That called the others in very handily, though she glared at Kardal for several minutes afterwards. Kardal spoke, smiling—more than usual, that was. He was always smiling a little. The girl stood up, brushed herself off, and blushed prettily.

Prettily? Where had that thought come from?

Jojo had his arm around the girl—little more than a child, the Maestro saw—and was walking her towards the wagon from which the Maestro was watching events unfold. He supposed he should pretend they just woke him up; if the troupe knew how little he slept, they would bother him with things all night long. A tap at the door; the Maestro swept it open as grandly as the limited space in the wagon would allow.

“Yes?” he asked, acting grumpy. The girl looked up at him, eyes large and brown like a puppy dog’s eyes when it has been misbehaving. She really was rather pretty.

“Sir, we have a…guest,” Jojo said, gesturing to the girl. The Maestro simply looked at Kardal, who nodded. That was it, then… but the strange man spoke.

“She has a harp, Maestro. Perhaps she is more than a guest?” The Maestro resisted the urge to roll his eyes; Kardal was never unsure about anything. He was prodding. The girl looked surprised, and like she was thinking of objecting.

“Very well,” the Maestro said, meeting first Kardal’s eyes, then the girl’s. “You will be called Cara. Welcome to our family.”

Chapter Three -- Into the Night

Minh left the meeting with Mage Harfor in a considerably better mood than the others. For many years Mage Harfor had forbidden him to use the strongest of his abilities; tonight, he had not only given permission, he had asked for it. Minh had never seen his talent as bad the way the others did. Yes, he could look into the private thoughts of others. He had always figured that an ability couldn’t be good or bad, but could be used for good or bad. Since he had begun Mage training he had been able to do it, and though he had always been forbidden to do so he had honed the ability. That was many, many years ago; by now, he was very good at it.

Returning to his quarters in the Guild, he found his thoughts turned to the Mage who had so rigidly opposed him for so many years, Adli. The bastard was so high and mighty, so righteous. He wouldn’t even live within the Guild, he had built himself his own house as far from the Guild as he could manage and still be on their land. Minh didn’t need to look into the man’s mind to know that he was doing things there the Guild and Mage Harfor would not approve of; how he dared do so and still condemn Minh for his gift Minh would never understand. And tonight the man had tried to tell the Head of the Guild that he was wrong! Why Abner Harfor put up with it Minh could not understand.

Well, he supposed he could… but he refused to use the gift on another Mage. He was loyal. He would not do anything against the Guild. The Warlocks, on the other hand… them he would gladly “spy” on, to use the word the others hated so much. It would take a lot, though. Sitting down at his desk he began a list of all the things he would need for the necessarily elaborate ritual to reach out across such a distance and find just the right mind, looking for just the right information. There would not be a lot of people aware of the kidnapping; the more knew a secret, the less safe the secret was.

His task would have been considerably easier, he lamented, had Mage Harfor not placed that damnable cloaking spell on his daughter. Over-protective and paranoid, their Head Mage was. But then, Minh supposed, that was why he had been chosen to lead them. Still, one look into the girl’s mind would have answered all their questions. Minh doubted Mage Harfor would have authorized that, though.

There was no use lamenting that, though, and Minh happily applied himself to the task before him. He had not been able to really test his limits with his ability in years; this was going to be fun. And if he managed to start the sequence of events that would bring down the Warlocks once and for all, well, that was even better.

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A bonfire blazed merrily in the center of a clearing; circling it were large, colorful wagons that looked like houses on wheels. In between the two, a half a dozen people sat talking and laughing. One was dancing, a beautiful young woman with brilliantly red hair; two other women were singing and an older man played a strange looking flute for her to dance to. A man and a woman sat watching, holding each other close. Kayla’s escort hailed them when they reached the circle of wagons.

“Ho!” he called out, raising the arm that wasn’t supporting her in greeting. The singing stopped, but the man playing the flute kept playing, oblivious.

“Jojo!” a voice called out; after a moment Kayla placed it to a large blond woman, one of the singers. She was headed towards them with her arms outstretched. “What’s this?” she said as she spotted Kayla.

“Rhianne found a stray, thought she was dangerous,” the man holding her up responded with a laugh. Jojo, Kayla figured his name was. The others were calling him that, anyway. For her part, she was tired, hungry, her ankle hurt, and she was terribly confused. These people couldn’t be bandits, they were far too happy and friendly. What kind of people were they, though, and why did they look familiar? She didn’t know. She hoped she would have a chance to find out soon. Or sleep. She would like that.

“Looks like the poor thing’s dead on her feet,” the blond voice said. For some reason Kayla couldn’t focus on her face, even though she was very close now. “Are you alright?” the woman asked. Kayla tried to nod, but the world went black halfway through.

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Julian clutched his cloak to himself in spite of the night being warm enough to go without it. These streets were not friendly, particularly to someone well-dressed as he was. He knew that all too well; not too many years before he had been one of those unfriendly things for richly garbed strangers to avoid. Which is why Adli knows I’ll be safe here, he thought to himself. Here was a dirty city a dozen or so miles south of the Guild headquarters, a place that Julian had once called home. No longer, he reassured himself.

With a steadying breath, Julian stepped towards the tavern he had been hovering outside of for several minutes. It was just a tavern, there was no need to be frightened. It wasn’t the same tavern, and these men had probably never heard of him, or at least forgotten about him. And he wasn’t going to touch the dice games, anyway. He was just here for information.

Julian didn’t like being nervous. And really, he didn’t have a lot to be nervous about. He didn’t remotely resemble the kid that had gotten himself banned from every dice game in the city by finding a way around the anti-cheating spells. No one would listen to him when he claimed that it was an accident, they just summarily banned him and called for the Guild, hoping he would be punished somehow. He supposed it was for the best, though, since the Guild likely would never have noticed him if not for his inadvertent casting that night. Still, it was a wholly unpleasant memory, and he really didn’t want to be reminded that other people remembered it, too.

If the air outside was warm, the tavern he had chosen to go into was hot; too many bodies packed into too small a space will do that. Even after all these years, Julian’s eye went first to the dice game in the corner, and he found himself clutching the pouch on his belt that held his focus. No. Carefully, he made his way to the bar, allowing the cloak to fall open as it wanted to do anyway. Let them see the Guild insignia on the cloak, that was the idea. Let them see, let them approach him. Adli had explained it to him.

“Guild boy, eh?” a voice said from behind him as he stood at the bar collecting a mug of something they called ale. Adli had much finer in his private stores; Julian expected to not drink a whole lot of it. Probably better that he kept his wits about him anyway. Still, he looked into the mug with disappointment. A good drink would have made the night a lot better. Slowly he turned to face the person that had spoken.

“What’s it to you?” he asked, trying his best to sound a whole lot cockier than he felt. The man was oily like Minh but lacked the Mage’s fanatic neatness. He was hiding a crest on the breast of his coat rather obviously. Warlock.

“They treat you good up there, boy? I hear stories about how they treat apprentices,” the man said. Julian wanted to roll his eyes, to put the man in his place, but instead tried to look nervous.

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” he said, untruthfully. He had heard those stories too. Some of them were true.

“Come now, there’s no need to be shy. Here, let me pay for your drink,” the man said, tossing a gold coin on the bar. Julian had already paid for the ale, but the bartender just snatched it with a smile.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, to the man. “But I don’t know what you want here. I’m just an apprentice, I can’t do anything for you.” That sounded suitably servile, Julian thought, amused.

“On the contrary, boy, I think I might be able to do something for you,” the man said, wrapping an arm around Julian and leading him towards a dark corner of the tavern. Julian suppressed a shudder, knowing that this contact might prove very useful to Adli in the future. But he wasn’t doing it for Adli—this might give Adli a better chance to find Kayla. That was what gave him the strength to pretend he was interested in the Warlock’s proposal: he was doing this for Kayla. It was always for Kayla.

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Adli sat at a window that faced south, looking in the direction he knew his young apprentice to be, though he was much too far to see. Still, he stared so hard and so long that he might as well have been trying, for all the good it did. He was worried, and about a great many things.

It wasn’t just that the Head Mage’s daughter had run off and possibly been kidnapped, nor that the Mage in question was his dear friend of many years. It wasn’t even that he had just sent his apprentice into the dragon’s mouth, so to speak, to consort with the enemy and hopefully learn a few things. No, Julian could take care of himself. Kayla he was less sure about, but that wasn’t what had him staring out the window for hours absently holding a glass of wine.

Adli was getting old.

Yes, he was older than most of the Guild and in better shape; that didn’t change the fact that he could feel himself slowing down, weakening. He had been expecting it for years, really, though he was a little surprised it was happening fast enough for him to notice. If only it hadn’t come upon him now, when Abner might need him to temper the influence of zealots like Minh. He couldn’t afford to get old now. Things needed to be done, and no one else was ready to do them. He was training Julian, but the boy was as young as Adli was old, and his talents had no fully developed, and were developing in a different direction than Adli’s had. Adli didn’t know what to do.

It was possible that, when shown what Adli was really working on, Julian would develop an interest in magical theory, rather than the flashy probability spells the boy favored now. Adli doubted it, though. Who else could he share it with, though, that wouldn’t condemn him for it? There had been a young woman, once, that had shared his interests; before he could approach her about it she mouthed off and, in lieu of getting herself kicked out, quit the Guild. A pity, too, because she had been on the right track. But he could hardly contact her about his research now; contacting a renegade would land him in nearly as much trouble as his research would.

He sighed again, taking a sip of his wine for the first time that hour. Julian would have to be shown his work soon enough, no matter what Adli’s assessment of his interests said. The Warlock that was bound to approach him at the tavern tonight would say some things that Julian couldn’t help but question. Adli would answer his questions before they got to be doubts about the Guild, by telling the boy the truth that the Guild wanted to deny, the truth that the Warlocks used to recruit young idiots who didn’t know any better. It would not do to lose Julian to the Warlocks… but Adli doubted it would happen. The boy had too many reasons to stay with the Guild. He was too smart, anyway, and would understand why the Warlocks were worse than most people thought them to be, once Adli showed him his research.

So much hinged on that, Adli thought. On his research, and on Adli himself being there to explain it. If he knew chance—and he would be the first to admit that Julian was the expert on chance, not him—then he knew that something would prevent him from doing so. The worst possible coincidences always came to pass. It was a startling thought, and for the first time since Julian left Adli was spurred into action. He would prepare, just in case. He was still poring over his notes, writing things for Julian to find, when the boy came home near dawn. They had a lot to talk about… but he would wait for Julian to approach him. He hoped his apprentice chose to do so soon.

Chapter Two -- Caught!

“Well?” the voice said. Kayla looked up to find herself staring down the blade of a short sword—too long to be a dagger—beyond which a stern, black haired woman was glaring, waiting to be answered. Kayla swallowed, unable to remember what question she was supposed to be answering. Had the woman asked anything else? She couldn’t remember much of anything besides the steel glinting in the very faint moonlight in front of her face. The woman looked impatient, though, so Kayla took a chance.

“Um…” That was it! Kayla remembered what it was she was supposed to be answering. She started to smile, and then it sank in. Who’s there? Kayla couldn’t answer that! She had to keep her name a secret. It was too risky, someone might know it, or might repeat it in the wrong company. She didn’t even want to tell her given name, never mind tacking her father’s onto the end of it! The sword in her face jerked a tiny amount; the woman was growing impatient.

“Um, what?” the woman scoffed. “You going to tell me who you are, or do I have to run you through?” Kayla backed away from the sword point that had been thrust for emphasis. She most certainly did not want to be run through…

“Rhianne? What have you got there?” This voice belonged to a man. It was smooth and light and musical… and the man approaching looked anything but. In the darkness of the woods he was all angles, and his dark hair and sharp goatee looked sinister in the extreme. He spotted her, cowering on the ground where she had fallen. She cringed, waiting for an order to kill her or worse.

“Trespasser,” the woman responded offhandedly. Trespasser? Kayla thought. What was she trespassing on? Surely no one owned land out here in the woods!

“Rhianne…” the man said, exasperated. “No, we’ll go over that another time. What I want to know is why this poor frightened child constitutes a dangerous trespasser. Care to enlighten me?” The voice was as light as ever, but carried an undertone of mockery.

“She’s one of them,” the woman snapped back. One of who? Kayla wondered. There was no mark on her to indicate where she had come from, was there? Had she not been scared stiff she would have looked about her person to make sure no such indication existed. As it was, she just stayed where she was, not wanting to call any more attention to herself than necessary. This man seemed, somehow, to be the one interested in showing her mercy.

Unfortunately, the man seemed to know better than Kayla did what the woman was talking about; he backed away ever so slightly, and leaned over to inspect Kayla more thoroughly. “Are you sure?” he asked, some of the lightness gone. After a moment, he laughed, loudly and unexpectedly.

“Oh, Rhianne, even if she were, can’t you see how young she is? Look at her! She’s scared out of her poor little mind!” All this came between guffaws of laughter. Kayla found herself resenting this man a little, even though she knew he had likely just saved her life. Was she really that pathetic? She tried to move to stand, only to discover that she had twisted her ankle, probably about the time the woman’s voice scared the wits out of her and she tripped over a root sticking out of the ground. She couldn’t help it, she cried out.

“Ow!” Both man and woman turned swiftly towards Kayla, the man’s laughter gone as if it had never been. The woman had her sword trained at Kayla’s throat again, but the man’s eyes held concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding a bit uncomfortable. Kayla tried again to stand, confirming that her ankle was definitely hurt.

“I think I twisted my ankle,” she said, feeling a little strange about doing so. The woman still had her sword pointed at Kayla, though not with as much conviction as before. The man followed her gaze, and glared at his companion.

“Oh, put that thing away. Not only is she young, harmless, and injured, but you’re scaring her, too!” There was something odd about the man's voice, Kayla thought. It had an oddly resonant quality to it, and sounded strangely familiar.

“Cut the dramatics, Jojo,” the woman said, lowering her sword. “Just because she looks harmless doesn't mean she is.” That comment sounded like one not meant to be heard, Kayla thought.

“So we take her to the Maestro,” the man said. She couldn't tell in the darkness, but she thought he was glaring at her. “Not simply kill her off hand.”

For some reason, the thought of going before the Maestro was more intimidating than the woman with the sword still in her hand. What kind of man would be master to these two? Kayla had horrible visions of being taken into a camp of thieves and brigands. What would such people do with her? Just kill her, as the woman wanted to do, or worse? She shuddered. It might have been better to get caught by a Mage and dragged back home in disgrace.

“Alright, get her up then, I'm not carrying her,” the woman muttered. The man came closer and offered Kayla his hand. Wary but not sure she had any other option, she took it and tried to stand, keeping her weight off of the injured ankle as much as possible. The man slipped his arm around her waist to steady her; Kayla shuddered at the intimate contact, but again saw little choice but to endure it.

They walked slowly in deference to Kayla's injury, but all too soon the ambient light from the camp began to light the forest around them. Kayla wasn't sure what to expect... she had visions of horrible things, but she thought they were all terribly unlikely, even considering that she was probably being taken to a camp of brigands. The reality, though, took her completely by surprise.

“How did it go?” a young man asked as Adli came into the house, returning from his meeting with the Head of the Guild. Adli looked up. Another man might have given his apprentice an encouraging smile, but Adli was not the type to do so. Adli's apprentice for two years now, Julian was used to this, and did not expect anything of the sort.

“Terrible. He authorized Minh to spy.” Adli spat the word with unconcealed venom. Julian blinked, looking surprised.

“On the Warlocks?” he asked. Adli nodded. “He's more worried than we thought,” he added after a moment. Adli threw his cloak down to the floor in anger, and Julian promptly picked it up and hung it on a peg on the wall. Adli rolled his eyes.

“How many times do I have to tell you, boy, you are not my servant,” the old Mage said with a weary sigh.

“It is expected of an apprentice,” Julian responded. They had this conversation daily, sometimes more than once.

“And that is a reason to do something? Because it is expected?” Julian just smiled. Adli was a cranky old man, but he was a good Mage to be apprenticed to. Julian had heard that some Mages treated their apprentices like slaves; with Adli, he was more of a partner. An extremely junior partner that didn't know his way around yet, but a partner nonetheless-- Adli shared things with Julian, and they worked on things together. Like this mess... but there was another reason for that, Julian knew.

“Do you think she was kidnapped?” Adli asked after a moment. Julian shook his head. This was another conversation they had been through many times.

“I almost wish she had been,” Julian said, “because running away is such a stupid thing to do. Much as I may not like it, though, it seems likely she did in fact run away. Where to, though, I haven't a clue. She never talked about anything like this.” That bothered Julian; Kayla had been his best friend for years. If she hadn't told him anything that hinted at this, what else had she not told him?

“I don't think she planned it,” Adli said. The slight softening of his voice was all the sympathy Julian was going to get; fortunately, the boy picked up on it and nodded in thanks.

“Neither do I, and that's why I'm worried about her. I mean... she could end up anywhere.” There wasn't much to be said to that, and Adli wasn't the sort of man to make empty remarks for reassurance, so they sat in silence for a long while, each lost in thought.

Abner Harfor, the Head of the Guild, did not rest well that night. He had been hoping some news of his daughter's whereabouts would be coming his way tonight. His Seer had told him there was good fortune for her today; he had assumed that meant that she would be found so she could be brought back home. It was still possible that it was true, but that the news had not reached him yet. Somehow, he couldn't make himself believe that.

But good fortune was still good fortune, and he would have to content himself with that. At least he knew she was alive to have good news. His seer had been unable to locate her, but he had expected that. He had placed a cloaking spell on her many years ago, and had refreshed it whenever it started to fade; it would fade, now, without his influence, and he would be able to locate her when it did. But that would be months from now, and he would worry for her until he could confirm she was safe and bring her home.

He knew that Adli was angry with him, and it troubled him. He respected Adli greatly; the other Mage was a very wise man, and had been so even when Abner himself was first raised to the Guild. But he could not see any other option but to do what he had done, no matter how much Adli might disapprove. He had to know if the Warlocks had her. Not only for his own peace of mind, either; she had lived in his house, who knows what she might tell them? The Warlocks were ruthless killers and would stop at nothing to eliminate the Guild, which they saw as competition. What would such vicious men do with his poor daughter, to get to him?

He did not sleep well that night, nor had he slept well since the night of the Festival, when she disappeared. He did not expect to sleep well again until she was home.

Chapter One-- The Runaway

“Please!” Kayla found herself half shrieking, half whispering to the cranky old woman behind the old wooden bar. She hated the way her voice sounded when she did so; it was not a pleasant sound. She couldn’t help it; she was desperate. The woman had the good grace to look pitying, but still shook her head. Kayla felt tears stinging her eyes, but swallowed hard to hold them back. I will not cry, she told herself. Not where anyone can see. No one’s going to hire a sniveling child.

“I’m sorry, kid, but we just can’t use you. I got a girl coming in later, and she… well, you don’t sing the kind of songs she does, I’d say.” The woman shook her head again with a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ll give you… half off a room, just because I feel bad for you, but I can’t do any better than that.”

Kayla bowed her head, sighing and slumping her shoulders. Half off would have been great… but she didn’t have any money. She had run out two days ago, and hadn’t slept or eaten since. So much for the kindness of strangers, she thought bitterly. She didn’t want to start stealing, not if she didn’t have to… but it was starting to look like she would, and soon. Her emergency money had run out too fast; she had expected to get work at least once or twice already.

Taking a deep breath, she faced the woman, wishing her eyes were dry as she did so. “Thank you, but I think I’m going to try elsewhere.” So saying, Kayla shouldered the small harp and turned towards the door to leave the dark common room of the tiny inn. She would not miss it, any more than she missed any of the others she had left the same way. It was not a life she particularly wanted, singing in a tavern. She just didn’t have much choice.

“Good luck,” the old woman said, though not even she really knew if she meant it or not. The poor girl had probably already looked everywhere else in the little town, and gotten much the same answer. There just wasn’t any call for a young girl to sing in a bar if she wasn’t going to sing bawdies, no matter how pretty she could sing otherwise. The girl hadn’t even been that pretty, the innkeeper thought, though the adolescent clothing hadn’t helped matters at all. If the kid dressed more like an adult people would take her more seriously. But then, the innkeeper thought, she probably didn’t have anything better to wear; that kid was a runaway if she’d ever seen one. She wondered idly what the girl was running from for a moment, before an actual patron calling for her distracted her from her thoughts of the child.

“Hey, can I get another ale here?” shouted a rude man from the corner. The innkeeper winced at the cry; it was him again. He had shown up three days prior, and in that time had done nothing but irritate her customers and terrorize her staff. She wished she could throw the ale in his face, but he was a Mage. It wasn’t worth it.

Not that she was a coward—she had picked fights with the biggest, ugliest thugs that tried to stiff her on the bill—but a Mage was different. Other patrons might threaten her with bodily harm, or make noise about burning the inn down. A Mage, though… she shuddered. She appreciated all that the Guild had done for the world; she had an enchanted till behind the bar, for security reasons, that she had personally bought from a Mage. In her rare dealings with them, she was never anything but utterly courteous. She never wanted to find out what a Mage might do if she was not.

Putting her thoughts aside, the innkeeper took the rude Mage his latest ale. At least they had good money, she told herself. There was always that.

“Who was that girl?” the Mage asked her as she set the mug down.

“Who, that child that just left?” she responded, answering her own question before she had finished asking it. To cover herself, she kept going. “Just some young girl with aspirations of being a singer,” she said. The Mage scoffed.

“Musicians,” he said with a scowl, taking a long swallow of his ale. When he put the mug back on the table he glared at the innkeeper, who scampered off when she realized she had missed her cue to leave. “Worthless vagabonds,” the Mage muttered to himself.

Just outside, Kayla stopped to catch her breath. She had spotted the Mage as she was leaving the common room. That was close, she thought wildly. Too close. She couldn’t afford to be recognized, and while she couldn’t remember that particular Mage’s name offhand, he would more than likely recognize her if he got a good look. She couldn’t risk that happening. She would not go back. She couldn’t.

Breath caught, Kayla headed away from the inn. Not towards the town, though; if there was one Mage here, there might be more. They could be looking for her. She might have given herself away already. Instead she headed towards the woods. There was most likely nothing in the woods she couldn’t handle; much as she might not want to think about it, she did have Guild training. The forest looked downright tame compared to the one back home, where the Guild did its combat training. She would be fine in the woods for a night, Kayla told herself. She headed resolutely into the welcoming blackness of the trees; there would be no Mages in there to look for her, to drag her home. It would be safe there.

Of course, she had thought she would be safe in town, too. She had been gone from home for two weeks now, and had traveled as fast as she could manage, as far from the Guild as she could. It had been slow going; she was on foot and not used to traveling. Before she had left home she had never been far from the Guild headquarters, and had always traveled in style. This was different… she much preferred having a coach and luggage and company, but now she had little choice.

Kayla had always thought of herself as a practical girl. She had taken only clothing suitable for traveling, had worn her sturdiest walking shoes, and hadn’t brought much along with her other than her cloak and a purse full of money that she had been saving. She had meant to use it to buy a new focusing crystal when she received her apprentice placement. She figured that it would be better spent in getting her away from the Guild, now that the old purpose was no longer an option. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been a lot. She had never really needed money before; her father had always provided for her. Yet another luxury that was long gone, she thought bitterly.

Walking into the forest reminded her of home, in a strange way. She had always loved the forest that circled the Guild headquarters; it was the only place where she could go that she could be by herself, no one expecting anything of her. It had always been peaceful. When her father bought her the small harp that was now among her only possessions, she took it down to a small clearing in those woods to practice. The hours spent just learning to play were some of her happiest memories of her time with the Guild. That was kind of sad, she thought.

This forest was not very much like the one at home at all, Kayla realized. That one was always welcoming, always comforting. This one was cold and dark… rather like the rest of the world, she was now coming to realize. There was no one to look after her anymore… and the world was a lot less friendly than she had been led to believe. Kayla knew very little of the politics of the Guild, of what the rest of the world thought of the Mages. That was something she might have been taught, as an apprentice.

The deeper she got into the forest the darker the woods got, and the more and more aware Kayla was of just how little combat training she had gotten from the Guild. She was only sixteen, after all, and a girl, and her specialty was illusory magic, not combat or defense or attack, and she had never actually been apprenticed, and why had she felt ready to face these woods alone? Her thoughts were racing. She should go back to the town, she knew. Only she couldn’t remember which way she had come from; she had made a few turns, following a path, but somehow the darkness of the forest was seeping into her mind, and she was having trouble thinking. That was not a good sign. She knew, somewhere in the part of her brain that was still functioning, that there were things in the woods that would lead travelers astray. Horrible things.

Her pace slowed to a creep, but Kayla made herself keep walking as she craned her neck in every direction, trying to keep an eye out for anything and everything that might be lurking. She looked ridiculous, she was sure, but then it was dark enough that anyone looking wouldn’t be able to see in any case. The forest was not the eerie kind of quiet that she had been warned meant danger, but the incidental sounds of life sounded utterly sinister to her in any case. Behind her and to the right a twig snapped; whirling about to see what the cause was, Kayla caught her foot on an exposed root and tumbled ungracefully to the ground.

“Who’s there?” a voice called. A woman’s voice, and not beautiful or ethereal enough to be a siren or anything dangerous. It was definitely a human voice, Kayla thought, and she could have wept for relief. She had opened her mouth to respond when she realized that a random woman in the dark and scary woods was not likely to be the kind of person she wanted to run into… she could be a bandit or a gypsy or a pirate or something! Kayla knew that was a silly thought; there were no seas or major rivers around, what would a pirate be doing out here? Still, she couldn’t entirely dismiss the idea. Obviously her mind was still befuddled by some effect of the forest.

“You might as well come out,” the voice said in a nonchalant but oddly threatening tone. “You’re breathing louder than a dog in heat.” The voice was right above her in the dark.

“Is there any news?” The worry in the man’s voice was sharp, like the edge of an obsidian knife glinting in a dark room. He had his back to the room, staring into the a cold and empty fireplace, but no one among the half a dozen men gathered there asked him to turn; they knew that his grief was greater than he wanted them to hear.

“No, sir. We’ve got people looking all over, but no one seems to have seen her.” Several of the men gathered shifted their feet uneasily; they hated having no news to bring. There was not much else to say, though, so they contented themselves with shuffling their feet and fiddling with their elaborate robes. There was no need for them to be in ceremonial garb, but for the most part they felt safer in them than in street clothes. None of them would admit it, but their leader frightened them of late.

“She can’t have gone far, not without a horse. We’ll find her, sir.” That was the youngest of them, the one with the least rank; the others turned to glare at him. They didn’t like him speaking for them, but they didn’t want to disagree, no matter what they believed. To disagree would invite their leader’s wrath.

“If she left on her own,” the old man said, still staring into the unlit fireplace. None of the men responded. It was possible the girl had been kidnapped, of course. But they could only come up with one answer as to who had done it, if it had been done, and none of them wanted to think on that. Far better to believe that she had simply run away than to think… Suddenly their leader turned to face them, his eyes dark and serious.

“I know you want to find her,” he said softly. “I do too. I want to know that she has simply run off and will be coming home any day now. But I will not deceive myself. She may even now be in the hands of the Warlocks, and that is not something I will accept. I want to know, and I want to know now. Minh!” One of the men gathered in the room looked up sharply at his name being called.

“Yes, sir?” he asked. His voice was oily as his black hair, and it seemed to grate on the old man’s nerves—he cringed slightly at the man’s response, and sounded as though forcing himself to speak.

“You are the best at this kind of thing. Find out if she has been taken by them, and what has been done.” The old man would not mention spying or any other such dirty arts, but he knew that Minh felt no qualms about them, and he was desperate. He had to find her.

“My lord,” another of the men started, one older even than the one that led them, but he was silenced.

“Adli, I do not like it any better than you. But I have to know.” Old eyes met old eyes, and after a moment the one called Adli simply nodded. They would not rest until Kayla was found. But Adli did not intend for Minh to be the one who found her.