young enough to not pay attention to such things or was she just in a hurry?
“They want me dead you know. Of course you know. You saw.”
He grunted, fingering the shield bracelets. Some were still charged.
“Do you want to know why they want me dead?”
He spit on the paper as he adjusted the bracelets on his wrists, thought about it, flung one at the tart. She didn’t catch it. Instead it hit her in the face and flopped to the ground.
“Use it.” He dug out small, colored vials from the leader’s belt. Red, green, clear. “No.” He finally answered with a shrug. “And I don’t care about the reasons.” He inspected the vials.
I wonder what the clear one does?
He popped the cork, sniffing at it.
Two pale, smooth legs came into view. “That’s anti-magic.”
“What?” He frowned at the vial.
“Anti-magic. Have you never heard of it?” She squatted down in front of him, her strange eyes lighting on his own. He wasn’t completely comfortable with this view either. “Not very learned are you?”
“Bah.” He stood. “Maybe not, yet I’m not the one being hunted now am I? So how smart are you strawberry tart, to be on an assassination list?”
“It’s Gennifer. Gen to my friends. To you,” she turned her head, curious. “I’m not sure yet.”
“You’re a tart that has brought Antia hunters after me. Trust me, as soon as this next hecter is dead, you’re on your own.” She stood up then, frowning over the darkening plains.
She turned her head slowly. “Another full hecter? Do you think?” Her aqua eyes turned to the sky. “How long?”
“Soon enough. That little trick you did,”
“My magic?”
“Whatever,” magic? True magic? “where is the focus? The artifact itself? Is it ready? Can you use it again? From what I saw, it pretty much wiped you out.”
“The Source is near enough I think, though my fill of it has dwindled. I’m…” she shrugged. He waited. Just as he was thinking she would not continue, she trapped his eyes with her own. “Will you help me reach my goal? My destiny? If so, I’m sure the Source will help us.”
“The Source?” He couldn’t look away from those eyes. It was getting darker. There was no light. What was reflecting in those eyes to make them shine like that? What was he getting into if he said yes? “No. I don’t want to know and no, I won’t help.”
She frowned. “Then why help me before? Why give me these clothes? ” She stomped over to his looted goods, swiftly picking out bits he couldn’t see.
“Hey! Those are–”
“I can help better with this.” She drank a few vials and cast some of the powder into the air. He watched as the powder twisted suddenly, changing color and lifting up and outwards over the traps he had lain.
What was the tart? A herb witch of some kind? He forced himself to stay still as she nodded.
“That will help. If only you’d agree–”
“No!”
She frowned at him. “You say no yet here you stand! Why? You could have left me while I was unconscious.”
“Listen tart, that hecter is coming for me no matter what. So I figured if you could use some more of that…whatever it was you used… I would stand a better chance of fighting them.”
Or running away while you fight them.
She blinked slowly at him. Her eyes were strangely deep for one that looked, on the surface, to be so young. “Is that all? Sure you weren’t going to just leave me here? Or,” she lashed out, catching his sore leg. He swore under his breath, barely managing to contain it. “maybe the bum leg is keeping you here, no?”
“Magic.” Time to distract. “What kind of magic weapon was that?”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I use this.” He pulled out his bow. As soon as the fresh air hit it, it began glowing slightly. His leather gloves were palmless so his flesh could touch it and fire it up.
I’ll never get used to the feel of it taking from me. Though we’ve been through so very very much. Isn’t that right my friends?
“With these.” He rattled the few arrows he had in his quiver. “Fire. Ice. Pure energy. The basics.” Although, only the pure energy one remained charged. Well, barely. He’d need them to be re-filled at the next town he visited that held a magesmith.
She looked from his quiver to his bow to his face. A small smile that had been there slipped away. “Are you serious?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t have any magic weapons or focal objects or…what did you call them? Ah. Artifacts..”
“Then what–” He nearly dropped a load in his pants when a red spark erupted from her outstretched hand. Her aqua eyes danced. “That…that…” that wasn’t possible! No one had been able to use magic like that since before the great cleansing. He stumbled over nothing, sitting heavily. “…not…”
“Oh? Big man scared of a little girl’s talent?” She smiled gleefully, dancing towards him. Grinning wider as he scuttled away.
“Wh–” It wasn’t possible. He was seeing things. One of her rings? Something implanted? No one had been able to use magic, true magic, for generations. He didn’t even know anyone that had–
Well, old Grommy had told many a tale of true magic users in his youth but he was an unnaturally old man. If he had been a man. They had debated that often. He and his fellows.
In the end, turned out old Grommy could be dead as easily as the rest of us–
Don’t you mean them? Since, after all, here you are. Still alive and all.
How true.
He jerked as his world turned red. A small moan escaped him. He looked up, blinking away the images of the past. The tart was standing over him, her little foot planted on his leg. The red spark was dancing in her hand. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.
“Hmph!” It blinked out, leaving his world black. All he could see, her strangely bright eyes. “That is interesting. Why–” Grabbing her foot, he spun her off him as he lunged upward and over to land on her.
“What in the hells are you?” He held a knife to her throat, stopping her struggles. She stared into his eyes.
Not at them no. Into them. She’s looking into me!
No
No.
He pushed that thought aside.
She blinked slowly, her eyes releasing him. “Please take that away from my throat you great moron.”
Why should I?
He pulled back slightly. Her face was flushed. Her eyes were steady. She was watching his movements, studying, calculating.
“How?” He wanted to ask more. How had she evaded the purge? He stopped himself realizing what a foolish question that was. She was young. The purge had happened before either of them had been brewing in their fathers’ balls.
“So it’s true then? No one can use magic here without a focal object?”
“Artifact.” He corrected.
“Artifact. Whatever the name they do the same thing. Hmm. Interesting.” She sat up slowly, placing her hand on his chest. It felt hot. Strangely hot. Heat was literally radiating out fro–
“What are you trying to do!?” He hopped away.
“Just a bit of healing you ox.” She rose easily to her feet. Her hand a strange shade. She frowned, motioning at his leg. “That’s not natural. What did that to you?”
“Don’t ever touch me again.” He lifted his lip, snarling. How? What? Why? Where? All valid. Somehow this girl was able to touch true magic. Even though she wore magical artifacts of various kinds, they must only be for emergency use as she could call true magic from within.
True magic…what have I fallen in with?
Was that what brought on the assassins? He frowned at her unwavering stare. “Where are you from? What are you?”
“I’m from across the sea. My home was there before the Source came to me.” For once, her gaze wavered. A shiver seemed to run through her. “My home...my fa
mily…everyone–” She flinched as a boom thundered across the plains.
“No time! If we live, later.” Later what? He didn’t want to know. Ever. Nothing good ever came from across the sea. “Get ready tart.”
3
Another boom went off as they crouched down on the hilltop. It was getting darker and the grass was very tall here. When it wasn’t trying to wrap around you, it was a decent hiding place.
The hecter was approaching cautiously. They were down one mounted man already. He was smiling at that. A common blast had been enough to take down one, now they were only left with–
A screech came from the sky. One of the winged hunters had finally spotted them.
Damn it all! Because of you! “This is all because of you tart. Why did you come this way?” He pulled his arms free of the clinging grass.
Phhit!!
The lightly glowing bolt slammed through the hunter. The winged mount spun about and tried to retreat, carrying its message to others. Another shot brought it down.
“Y’oh!! Arg loc summ’n!!” The hecter leader was standing in his saddle, pointing at them.
“That pinpointed us. He said, basically, to circle us and come in from different sides while–”
Phhit!
Another winged mount spiraled to earth. The hunter had his shield up, glowing a dull blue. As soon as he touched down, a brilliant light flashed over him.
He landed on one of the traps. Unlucky for him. Even shielded, the hunter was wiped away in that blink of light.
“I guess they said attack from the air and circle around on foot?”
“Something like that.”
The remaining flying hunters banked to the left and right, as the mounted hunters began spreading out and trying to rush in. They had small beams of light