Blackthorn
‘In the Tween’
By Jamie Ott
Copyright © Jamie Ott 2011. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used without written permission.
Passionate Prose Industries.
ISBN-13: 978-0615541648
ISBN-10: 061554164X
For all inquiries, please contact
[email protected].
The Attacks
Chapter 1
Lin and the shop keeper stepped outside to see where the screams came from.
The sky was royal blue with white clouds moving in and squeezing out the last remnants of daylight. Up and down Blackthorn Street, wrought iron lamps shone orange through their glass boxes.
To her left and right, a few shop keepers were locking up, and rather early, too. Pumpkin jack-o-lanterns that lined the block were smashed and smeared into the pavement.
“Is the city under attack again?” asked Lin.
“I don’t know, but I’d better close up, get home and check in with my family. Sorry, but I’ll see you later.”
Mara stepped back inside, and locked the door behind her.
Lin knew she should go straight home, but she was compelled to see what was making everyone go crazy.
She buttoned down her red velvet cloak, pulled the hood over her head, and turned left down Blackthorn Street.
A blast of ice cold air blew in her face, making her eyes squint.
“AAAAAAAaaaaaaghhhh!”
Lin flinched at the sound of the woman’s screams. Perspiration broke out on her face and neck.
Keeping her head forward, she continued past the many little shops.
From somewhere she heard voices in chorus. What a strange time to be singing, she thought.
At the cross street, Maple Avenue, she looked right and saw most of the shops, there, were closed, too. Down on the next block, she spotted Mrs. Appley sticking a key into the door of her own shop; she turned it and ran down the street into the shadows of the sky reaching mountain, which was the backdrop to the town. Normally, scattered lights twinkled from the dozens of homes on the mountain’s base, but now, it was like there had been a blackout. Were people hiding?
Lin turned left and breathed in, frightfully.
A chain of people in hooded cloaks, carrying torches in their hands, walked shoulder-to-shoulder, combing the street.
They chanted, “Blackthorn: In the Tween,” over and over.
As they moved closer, Lin couldn’t decide if she should run, or stay and make sure they caused no one else harm.
Suddenly, Mr. Jim, the town’s shoe and leather repair man, stepped out of his shop across the way; it was a few yards ahead of the dark figured people. In a panic, he fumbled with his keys. His hands shook so violently that they slipped to the ground.
Just as he was about to bend over and pick them up, he stopped. His eyes bugged out at the sight of the robed figures; then he turned and ran.
The poor man didn’t get very far. One of the hooded figures, from the center of the chain, flicked a brown rod that barely poked out of his long sleeve. Mr. Jim flung, feet over head, through the air. He made a pitiful yelp as he crunched face first into the ground.
Suddenly, a man and woman, she’d never seen before, came out of the next shop over and knelt next to Mr. Jim. They didn’t have a chance to see if he was alright because a hooded figure at the end of the chain went rogue from the line. The man and woman stood, turned and ran; the robed figure chased after them.
Lin heard, by the laughter, that it was a man under the cloth. He, also, had a rod, which he pointed at them and shrieked as they screamed at the tops of their lungs.
Using her mind the way a sorceress does, Lin sent fire to the rod, obliterating the wand in the hood’s hand.
The man roared in pain, shook his hand vigorously, and turned his head toward her. Several others, in secession, turned their heads, too.
Lin’s eyes locked with the dark brown eyes of the tallest figure in the center of the line. In them, she saw murderous rage. Immediately, she commanded the molecules of air around her to form together. This kind of shield was invisible, and could only be spotted by glints of light, reflecting off the particles of solidified air.
The hoods sent a variety of spells that bounced off her shield, leaving Lin unharmed. As she’d trained herself, she called the wind by focusing her mind, and sent it streaming down the street as fast as she could imagine it.
Almost instantly, the wind came to her defense. Like a tornado, it blasted around her, but her shield kept her safe. It shattered the windows of the shops and the glass cages of the street lanterns; then blasted directly at the line of hooded figures. Like leaves, they were blown backward, rolling down the street and flying through the air.
She walked into the middle of the street and watched them crunch-land to the ground, several blocks away. They scattered as soon as they could stand again.
As she watched them, she thought about how things were getting worse. Perhaps it was time she thought about leaving Blackthorn for good.