Acclayne Book 1: The Game Begins
Chapter 15

The panel below the large bronze figure read: “Doneskus theResilient.” Malcolm joined me in front of the statue.

“Ah, Sir ClaudeDoneskus. We learnt about him last year. He was a prominent figure inthe first war between Glakyrie and Bromyth. On our side of course...”By the size of him I didn't replace it hard to believe. “He spent mostof his time on the front line, very unusual.”

“How so?”

“Well the fact thatanyone actually survived the front line was a miracle; Bromyth tookno prisoners. Secondly; he had no magical capabilities whatsoever,which by normal standards would have made him useless. Try as theymight; however, no one could kill him...” I nodded along, trying toretain as much information as I could. We'd only been in the museumfor a little while and I felt that I had probably learnt more aboutGlakyrie in the last hour and a half than I had done about Earththroughout my whole time at school. “...He survived two directshots to the chest, the severance of his left arm and the gauging outof his right eye.” I flinched at the thought. “With a woodenspoon.”

“Eww. They weren'tkidding when they called him resilient were they?”

“Nope. He was theonly man to ever withstand such a beating. He received a knighthoodfor his services.”

“I should bloody hopeso.” I squirmed. People seemed to get knighted for the strangestthings back home. “He must have been chuffed.” Malcolm looked atme quizzically. “Proud, must've been proud.”

“Ah right, yeah Isuppose he would have been; had he not received it posthumously.”

“They managed to killhim then?”

“Oh no, turns out hewas immune to the forces of man, yet deathly allergic to grapes. Theyreckon it was all that celebratory wine that finished him off.”

“Hmm. Ironic. But Isuppose everybody has a thing.” I shrugged. We stared at the statuea while longer in silence; myself out of respect for the deceased;Malcolm, I could only assume, was thinking on what he had done forhis country. He had enabled Malcolm to live the life he did; thethought was humbling. As I was considering this Malcolm turned to me:

“Do you want to seeyour mother?”

Understandably thequestion caught me off-guard, and my response had turned out to bealong the lines of: “Guh-plugh?” Which Malcolm must haveunderstood to be an affirmative and proceeded to lead me to a sideroom. The gold plaque by the door frame read:

“Alaina Oakley, TheGreat.” I swallowed hard.

“Now here's a womanthat didn't have a 'thing'.” He smiled up at me but I barelynoticed. I had seen photographs of my mother; I had one beside my bedat home. They were all pretty normal; smiling, pulling faces, generalmessing about. All standard stuff. She'd always just seemed normal,not like the Amazonian figure standing on the plinth before me. Justlike Sir Claude Doneskus she was cast in bronze and seemed largerthan life; unlike Doneskus; however, she had the room to herself. Shestood tall, her head tilted backwards as if surveying everythingbefore her. Her long hair cascaded down her back in waves and herface and posture were so striking that I didn't immediately noticethat her finely muscled body was barely clothed.

I walked slowly acrossthe room to her so that I could examine the detail of her face. Shewas beautiful; strikingly so. It was hard to believe that my ownmother had been this warrior-goddess.

“You look just likeher.” Malcolm's voice came from behind me. The very thought seemedridiculous and I laughed aloud. I turned to look at him over myshoulder. His cheeks had began to blush a deep pink and I immediatelyfelt horrid for laughing; I hadn't intended to embarrass him.

“Well thanks, andhere's me thinking that I'd got my good looks from my goofy lookingdad.” I smiled, “But now that you mention it- that's definitelymy nose.” I stroked my nose with my finger, we had the same tinybump right in the middle, and for a moment she was human again; mymother.

“Wow, look at allthis stuff.”

I turned around and forthe first time took in my surroundings. I'd been so entranced by thehuge bronze statue that I had hardly even noticed what else was inthe room.

“Holy shit.”Malcolm laughed; my face must've been a picture. It sure felt as ifmy jaw was now acquainting itself with the floor. All around us weredifferent weapons. Some were recognisable as swords and what I couldonly assume were pistols, but others... well, God only knows whatthey were. They looked bloody dangerous enough- sharp bits stickingout in all sorts of uncomfortable looking directions.

“It's amazing thatone person could master so many weapons.”

“You what?”

“Your mum wasn't 'TheGreat' for nothing you know. She mastered all of these; some of themthey think she made herself.” He gestured around the room. “Imean, I'd say they're mostly replicas but it's to give you an ideamore than anything else.” I had an idea all right, and it wasn't agood one. The bad guys were clearly going to be expecting some sortof unstoppable weapon wielding goddess. Instead, they were gettingme; the apparent trump card who had never even held a gun. Probablybecause I couldn't even figure out how to work a staple gun properly;and there are laws against clumsy people carrying guns where I'mfrom...

“I'm pretty surewe're doomed.” I muttered

“What's that?”

“Just thinking outloud. Nothing to worry about.”

***

Methyn was not acoward, or at least he didn't think of himself as one. He liked tothink of himself as a man who was smart enough not to put himselfinto very many dangerous situations. He usually did quite well.Today, on the other hand, was turning out to be an off day.

“You finished withthat?” The man addressing him was clearly a native of theAssassin's Quarter; where Methyn had so unfortunately found himself.He was at least a head taller than the sorcerer and much older, soMethyn suspected, though his scar ravaged face might have beenmisleading. His left eye, or what was once his left eye, was coveredby a stained eye patch. His other eye was eyeing up Methyn'shalf-eaten sandwich.

“Uh, yeah.” Methynpushed the plate across the bar towards him. He hadn't even wantedthe sandwich. It had been bought for him and he'd only eaten thatmuch out of politeness, and fear. Fear was quite a large contributingfactor.

You see, when Methynhad realised where he was he had begun to panic; he had quiteaccidentally managed to put himself in a rather dangerous situation.Now as any assassin in the trade knows; a panicked man is aliability. Why is he panicking? Does he have something to hide? Willhe even be able to complete the job? The questions raised are endlessand none of them have a positive answer: unless the question waswhether or not someone was going to get killed in the imminentfuture. Methyn had begun to hyperventilate when he was finallycornered in the street.

“Oi. Not seen youbefore.” The deep and booming voice that came from above himbelonged to Joe-Knuckles. Named for his preferred method of battery.No one knew why it was pre-fixed with “Joe”. His name actual namewas Steve. Methyn gulped.

“I-I-I-er,f-f-friend.”

“Friend?”

“M-M-M-Meeting.”

“You're meetingsomeone eh?”

“D-D-D-Don't knoww-w-w-”

“You're not fromround here are you?” Methyn shook his head. “Well lets see littleman,” Knuckles put his hand down on Methyn's shoulder, hard.“Everyone gotta eat right?” Methyn wasn't sure where he was goingwith this, or if he expected an answer but he nodded anyway. Agreeingwas usually the best thing to do. “Well then, how 'bout I get youto a pub. Bound to replace you there... won't ask who- s'against thecode.”

Knuckles, the seeminglyfriendly giant of a man proceeded to steer Methyn deeper intoassassin territory to a pub called, quite frighteningly; The BloodyRose. He assured Methyn that if his friend was looking for him thenthey'd show up here sooner or later, Everyone did. Not always alivemind you. Ha ha, only kidding- assassin humour, apparently, waspretty morbid. And so Methyn found himself sat in The Bloody Rose,sandwiched between two men who he could only assume were wantedmurderers, waiting for an imaginary friend who was definitely notcoming to replace him.

The man with the patchhad finished his sandwich and was glaring at him. Methyn noticed asliver of ham dangling from his lower lip. He tried his best not tostare.

“There's sumfin' off'bout you.” He said. His speech was slow and strained. Methynwandered if he maybe had had too many blows to the head. “You ain'tone of us.”

“Ah, I- waiting on af-f-friend.” The man rubbed his chin, his stubble-beard made arough scratching sound as he stroked it.

“Magic man.”

“Excuse m-m-me?”Stammered Methyn. The man may have seemed slow but he had Methynfigured out right away.

“Don't trust you lot.You's like rats.” Methyn gulped. Those who had mastered the scienceof magic may have been respected by the general populace, butAssassins had a major beef with them. It was generally accepted thatit was because assassins were trained in the physical, While wizardscould barely lift their own body weight the majority of the time; yetthey could achieve the same results. Understandably this frustrated alot of people, unfortunately for Methyn Eye-Patch was one of thosepeople. “Scurry away at the first sign of trouble.” He had himthere- he was pretty good at scurrying; though he'd always thought ofhimself as just having good survival instincts. In fact, his survivalinstincts were kicking in even as he thought about it. He slid backon his stool and practically onto the lap ofNot-Really-Joe-Joe-Knuckles who had been busying himself chatting upa rather buxom barmaid.

“What tha?!”

“Urk.” ManagedMethyn as Knuckles stood up and knocked him off his stool completely.

“Got a problem?”Demanded Eye-Patch.

“Seems I do.”Knuckles snarled. The well-endowed barmaid scampered away; no dangerof her attempting to stop the impending bar-brawl. “Seems that itmight be your face. Reckon it could do with some improvements.” Hepunched his right hand into his left. Methyn scooted backwards alongthe floor and under a table where he inadvertently brushed up againstthe leg of a surly young woman. From where he was sat under the tableit sounded as if she might have punched the guy sitting opposite her.Across the room Knuckles had Eye-Patch in a headlock and was hittinghis good eye repeatedly. It was beginning to make a stomach-churningsquishing sound. Knuckles' knuckles were drenched in blood.

One of Methyn's triedand tested methods of self-preservation was the 'remain hidden andoblivious' approach. This largely involved hiding under a heavy itemof furniture for protection- the table usually being the preferredchoice- and closing ones eyes whilst humming show tunes. The humming-needless to say- was to be done quietly so as not to draw attentionto oneself. He also found that rocking back and forth often helped.

Methyn proceeded toemploy the 'remain hidden and oblivious' method. Today's tune ofchoice was “I love you almost as much as I love my horse.” He wasalways one for the classics.

***

“You found us then?”

“You stole my fuckingpurse!”

“Language.” I hadbeen wondering how long it would take Kaylaer to come after me whenshe realised that her purse was missing. Not long apparently, andshe'd managed to replace us no problem- not that we'd gone far; we'dbeen in the museum all afternoon. She growled loudly and I could feela smile threatening to form on my lips. I tried in vain to stop it,knowing that it would just aggravate her more. “From that tone Itake it that you didn't have a good afternoon? We've had a lovely-”

“Shut the hell up!You know I've had a shitty afternoon; you made sure of that!”

“I've no idea whatyou mean.” I shrugged and looked over at Malcolm who was pointedlyreading a book. I put my hands in my pockets. I hoped that my actingskills were up to par; “Oh! Is this it?” I took out her small,red leather purse. She snatched it from me and immediately checkedthe contents. “Now now, no need to-”

“You had no right!”

“I must have gottenconfused; I probably picked it up when we were packing away ourthings this morning.”

“It is easily doneKaylaer.” Ah, bless Malcolm. He'd briefly abandoned the pretence ofnot being involved to defend me. It made me feel kinda guilty; eventhough I was sure I'd done the right thing. Teenage girls can be adanger to themselves.

“Stay out of this youwhiny little-”

“Hey now, I'm the onewho had your purse.”

“You admit it then.”

“I never said that Itook it.” I allowed myself a smile and Kaylaer let out a lowgrumble. We both knew I'd taken it, and we both knew that she didn'thave any proof. Like Malcolm had said; it was easily done. Shestormed across the room, sitting down heavily on a bench. She foldedher arms; I'd give her a minute. “So,” I turned back to Malcolm,“there's always been a kind of tension between Corthus andCortharen then?” We had been going over some general Glakyrianhistory when tornado Kaylaer had hit. Malcolm was poring over someold books, pointing out bits that he thought I might replaceinteresting.

“Yeah, it's gone onever since the founding brother and sister really. They were sodifferent that conflict was the natural course of things- though ithas been relatively calm for the last half a century or so. They eventried to rejoin the two royal families.”

“Trying to recreatesome kind of familial bond?”

“Exactly.”

“And-?”

“It didn't exactlywork, or rather, it didn't turn out to plan. The princess ofCortharen and the prince of Corthus were betrothed when they wereyoung- per the agreement of the royal families of the time.”

“Arrangedmarriage...” I pulled a face.

“I know, but that wasusually what happened in the royal family, though not usually betweenthe two kingdoms. As it turns out they were a really good match-that's what made it such a tragedy.”

“Oh?” Despitemyself, my morbid curiosity had been piqued.

“The two of them weremarried; as per the arrangement. Both kingdoms were over-joyed, and ayear or so later, the princess fell pregnant,” A horrible feelingwas brewing in the pit of my stomach; I felt like I knew what wascoming next. “Everyone was so happy, relations between the twofamilies couldn't have been better, that was until thecomplications,” I knew it. “She died giving birth to their onlychild.” I gasped; even though I knew it was coming, but knowingnever makes it less horrendous. My heart was thumping in my chest. Ithought of my own mother, how she had done the same; she'd given herown life so that I could live. Tears stung my eyes and my heart wentout to that other motherless child.

“What the hell iswrong with you?” Kaylaer had joined us. Typical, couldn't fault hertiming.

“Nothing, it's justvery sad. Don't you think so?”

“Whatever. So whathappened?” She pulled up a seat beside me.

“Well apparently herhusband wouldn't send her body back to Cortharen- she was to beburied in the tomb of the Corthus royal family. They didn't likethat; as far as they were concerned he and the child were responsiblefor her death. Things have been a bit tense ever since, and needlessto say; it's not been tried again.

“How come I didn'tknow about this?” Kaylaer was leaning back on her chair, swingingprecariously on the back two legs. I used the distraction of herquestion to dab at my eyes. The story was heartbreakingly close tohome.

“It happened yearsbefore we were born. Besides the fact that it was very sad; nothingreally came of it. Things were strained anyway.”

“YeahI guess, can't believe they'd be so pig headed about it; consideringthey're clearlyall about family now.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean even we'vehad to get involved this time. It was a bad situation back then, butit was nobodies fault.” Kaylaer showing what appeared to becompassion? I was shocked.

“That's true, thingslike that never are, shame the same can't be said for the King'sbrot-”

“Um, I hate tointerrupt whilst you two are actually getting along...” I wassatisfied to see looks of discomfort from the both of them, “It'sokay no one would ever believe me if I told them, but where the hellis Methyn?”

***

Nonplussed, Juneystepped over the unconscious Bloody Rose patrons, fighting was commonamongst assassins so bar brawls were to be expected, though evenJuney had to admit; not usually on this kind of scale. Not a singlecustomer was upright and only the two bar-people escaped unscathed.The busty barmaid was cleaning up around fallen people, while the barmanager was rather unsubtly pick-pocketing a man who was draped overa bar stool.

Giflyn let out a largebreath as he climbed the last stair and stepped into the bar. “Wow,worst I've seen in a while.” Juney made no reply as she scanned theroom for signs of movement. The stench of piss and spilled beer washeavier on the air than usual; she suspected that one or more of thepeople lying motionless on the floor had voided their bowls. “Iwouldn't want to have to clean this up.” Giflyn laughed .

“Shut up.” Juneysaid matter-of-factly. A small noise from across the room had caughther attention. With silent swiftness she unsheathed a small daggerand carefully made her way over the prone bodies. Her hunched stancewas predatory, her footsteps light but sure so as not to make asound. Giflyn remained as quiet and as still as he could manage,eyeing her cat-like elegance appreciatively. She came to a stop justin front of a heavy table, an unconscious man with a black eye wassprawled across it. Juney pulled him off with little effort- despitethe fact that he was twice her size- and let him drop unceremoniouslyto the floor...

***

Methyn tentativelyopened one eye, then slowly risked opening the other. Within threeseconds he noticed two things; firstly he noticed a large pair ofblack boots standing in front of him, they hadn't been there whenhe'd closed his eyes and he hoped beyond all hope that they wereempty. The second thing that he noticed was the sudden falling andlanding of an unconscious man beside him. His brain did not have timeto process this information as it was distracted by a loud scream,which he later realised was coming from his own mouth.

In fight or flightsituations Methyn always chose flight. He contributed his on goinglife as a testament to the effectiveness of this choice. What Methynfailed to recall; before attempting to run, was that he was sat undera rather large table. A large table that was significantly harderthan his head.

“GLARGHLE!” Hisscream petered out as he fell back to the floor in a daze. He wasonly slightly aware, in the back of his mind, of the table beingmoved from above him. The part of his mind that was aware of thischastised him for such a stupid judgement call. The rest of his mindmade an incoherent babbling noise.

“What the hell?” Aman's voice came from the blur above him.

“I knew I recognisedthat scream.” He knew that voice, who was it? “Come on, lets getyou up.” Suddenly, or maybe not suddenly- he couldn't quite work itout- he was being pulled up to his feet. “Think you can stand?”asked the familiar voice. He thought he managed to mumble somethingin response. He could feel his body sinking but was relieved to replacehe was being held firmly in place by a pair of small, strong hands.

“And this is-?” Theunfamiliar male voice asked.

“Part of myassignment.” Jay? Jo... “No idea what he's doing here.” Joon-“Yes, Juney.” He hadn't realised he'd been babbling out loud.

“Which part?”

“None of yourbusiness.” The familiar voice snapped. Juney, yes. Methyn's visionbegan to focus. Who was she talking to? Supplies... she'd gone tomeet someone.

“Ssssupplies...?”

“Yeah, supplies. Thisis Giflyn; he's an associate of mine. Help me steady him will you?”Methyn felt, rather than saw, Giflyn steady him from his other side.He'd hit his head; he remembered. Under a table. There wasfighting... and a scary man with an eye-patch. As Methyn's memorycame back to him the room snapped into focus. There was blood andbodies everywhere. “Methyn?” Juney's hand was on his bare armnow. How did that happen? “You're okay. Everything's fine.” Hefelt a wave of calm lap over him. It was okay. He was fine. Hemanaged a smile. “There, see?” Juney slowly stepped back. “Youokay to stand on your own?” Methyn nodded and as he did he feltsomething warm trickle down the side of his face. He wiped at it withhis hand- his fingers came away red.

The last thing Methynheard before he passed out was Juney's voice;

“Fuck- not again.”

***

“Is he always likethis?” Giflyn had slung Methyn over his shoulder and was walkingback to the centre of town alongside Juney. She strode purposefullyjust ahead of him; her stiff stance betraying her exasperated mood.

“From what I cangather; yes, and it's getting really old, really quickly. What thehell was he doing in there in the first place? That's what I'd liketo know.”

“Starting fights bythe loo-”

“-Don't you peoplehave rules about this kind of thing? He's a civilian for fuck'ssake!” She snarled through gritted teeth.

“Well we can hardly-”

“This is my job onthe line- there is more than one person who would gladly have my headfor this.”

“He's that importantis he?” Giflyn used his free hand to stroke his moustache andglanced down at the prone figure slung over his shoulder. He was awizard; He'd know that from a mile off. Must be something for her tobe going to all this trouble.

Juney sighed; “It'snot about him – it's about the bigger picture.”

“I see.”

“No. You don't. I'mnot paying you to see so just leave it.” Giflyn decided it was bestnot to respond; she was in a foul mood and he knew exactly what shecould be capable of and had no intention of pushing her further.

As they left theassassin's quarter and headed further into town Juney removed herhood; what had kept her inconspicuous there would only draw attentionto her here. She might as well have a flashing neon sign above herhead that labelled her “bad news.” Abruptly she stopped andwhirled round to face Giflyn.

“You best put himdown and try to wake him up. I need to pick up something so just staythere. I mean it. Do. Not. Move.” she turned to walk away; “I'vehad enough of being ignored today.”

***

It was late afternoonwhen Kaylaer, Malcolm and Alaina decided to leave the museum. Uponstepping out of the building, Alaina exclaimed that she hadn'trealised how quickly the afternoon had gone by and suggested that itmight be best that they wait for Juney in the square where she hadleft them. Kaylaer wondered if Alaina was operating on a differenttime scale as the afternoon had dragged painfully by since she'djoined them. Nerds. Thankfully the square was much quieter now;Kaylaer wasn't fond of big crowds. Being surrounded by people tiredher – all that bustling energy around her just seemed to drain herof her own, and right now she was feeling quite exhausted. If onlyMalcolm would shut up for two minutes and quit the walkingencyclopaedia routine. She couldn't understand how Alaina could stayso interested – she'd lost the will to live about twenty minutesinto the impromptu history lesson and she'd become quite adept atzoning Malcolm out. She sat quietly a few feet away from the othersbeneath the Oak tree in the centre of the square – her back pressedup against the rough bark. The market stalls were shut now and theirvendors looked to be packing up for the evening; after a busy day'strade.

Kaylaer dipped herslender fingers into her pocket and stroked the hilt of the dagger.Her dagger. She couldn't believe that she'd gotten away with thatone. Prudy-pants would have a fit if she found out. Kaylaer smiled toherself; serves her right for taking her purse.

“And then it wasdeclared that – hey do you hear that?” Kaylaer heard thetone-change in Malcolm's voice and zoned back in.

“Hear what?” Alainalooked about her; a lost look on her face. Kaylaer shook her head, itwas like babysitting a child, but there was definitely a noise... andit was getting closer-

-It was the sound ofrhythmic footfalls on cobbled stones and they weren't far away. Fromhis vantage point in the Oak tree the young man could see a fewstreets away. There they were, and they were coming closer; makingtheir way from North to South. Their relentless marching perfectlytimed and well-paced. They would be at Corthus within days. He hadn'texpected them to move so quickly. Alox had not informed him of this.

He looked down at thethree below him; he had been waiting for them all afternoon. Withany luck they would just be passed unnoticed. He couldn't afford forthem to replace her now. Not yet. No doubt they'd be looking for her. Ifthey could get to her now they'd be pre-empting themselves – thoughit would hardly be a fair fight. Not yet anyway. What the hell wasshe doing? She was meant to be protecting her. She was never thislax- he hadn't seen her all day in fact; Cholden was losing hertouch.

He sat quietly for amoment feeling the gentle pulsing of energy from within the palm ofhis hand. The echo pulse was weaker than it should be- the blondehaired child was directly below him...

...Kaylaer stood up tobetter watch the soldiers as they passed. There were hundreds ofthem, she didn't recognise the uniform.

“Cortharen? I wonderwhat they're doing here.” Of course Malcolm would know. Well, atleast that was that solved.

“Probably someroutine drill or patrol or something,” she shrugged, “or theyheard you were coming.” Malcolm's cheeks burned and Kaylaer felt asmug sense of satisfaction.

“Though it's morelikely that they heard you and your smart mouth were in town, but Ithink they were overestimating you by sending so many.” Alaina gavea nonchalant shrug and winked at Malcolm. Kaylaer grumbled, how dareshe. She wished they were coming for her; even if it meant beingstuck alone with Malcolm.

The soldiers marched onand within a few moments they had passed them by without so much as aglance in their direction; leaving many a puzzled market vendor intheir wake.

As the sound of theirheavy footfalls gradually faded away a familiar voice broke thenew-found silence:

“I wonder what thatwas about.” Kaylaer whirled around to see Juney leaning casuallyagainst the tree.

***

“'An hour or so', wasit?” I put my hands on my hips in what I hoped was an authoritativemanner. Juney just shrugged it off. So much for that. “Where haveyou been?”

“I told you, I had toget some supplies. Better question is; where were you?”

“Excuse me?” I letmy arms fall back down to my sides; I wasn't sure why but it felt asif the power balance had shifted. It wasn't in my favour- she waspissed about something. “Malcolm and I have been brushing up onsome history, was actually rather-”

“And what about you?”She had turned on Kaylaer now. There was a brief moment when Ithought I saw a flash of panic cross her face- but it was gone beforeI could be sure. Instead, it was replaced by a look of indignation.

“None of yourbusiness.”

“I will have youknow, young lady, that when one of my party wanders into theAssassin's quarter it is-”

“-I didn't meanto...” She trailed off quietly.

“-Youdidn't mean to what? I was talking about your idiot teacher. What thehell have youbeen doing?” How Kaylaer was managing to keep her nerve I willnever know. Malcolm had half hidden himself behind me, though to tellthe truth I felt like hiding myself. Juney's temper had reachedboiling point and she was now so far into Kaylaer's personal space Ithought that they might collide; Kaylaer was not retreating.

“I have to be able todefend myself; seeing as you're completely incapable of doing it!”

“How dare you-”

“Wellcome on then, what didhappen to Methyn? Will we assume that you couldn't protect himeither?”

“He is perfectlyfine, no thanks to any of you, and don't you dare use that tone-”

“-I'll use whatevertone I damn well like. Besides, what kind of a guide would leave twochildren with that idiot?” Her finger was now pointed at me.

“Excuse me?”

“That 'idiot',” Heynow, come on... “is the woman who is going to save your sorry assone day so how about showing some respect!”

The two of them werealmost nose to nose now; neither backing down. As a rule I was notgenerally scared of Juney; she kept to herself mostly and in myexperience she wasn't that quick to anger, but something hadcertainly rattled her today. If I was in Kaylaer's position I thinkI'd have been on the floor begging for forgiveness by now. As Ithought on this I was distracted by a low groaning noise. It wasMethyn, and he was being helped along by a large man with animpressive moustache. That was, at least until he was dropped,unceremoniously, at the base of the tree. He groaned a bit more inprotest.

“Ah you'll be fine,bump to the head won't kill ya. Never did me any harm.” He laughed,it was a loud, low sound that hummed in my ears.

Juney finally turned tous; “This is Giflyn; my supplier. Giflyn this is my team.” Thegiant of a man made a beeline for me.

“Pleased to meet youMiss Oakley.” He took my hand in his and shook it vigorously.

“Likewise.” He eyedme intently and I found it rather disconcerting. Obviously he knewwho I was; who I was supposed to be.

“And these are thekids from the Corthus institute.” Juney gestured briefly to Malcolmand Kaylaer in turn. Giflyn frowned as he acknowledged Kaylaer.

“You-” He took astep forward and for the first time I saw Kaylaer visibly frightened.Juney stood ahead of her; instinctively protective despite theirargument. I hoped Kaylaer acknowledged it.

“You know eachother?” she raised a speculative eyebrow.

“That pocket-sizeddose of trouble tried to put me out of business earlier,” Juneystiffened, was I missing something? “You know as well as I that Ican't be caught selling knives to minors Cholden.” Juney's suppliersells knives? I should have known. Juney looked down at Kaylaer overher shoulder.

“Whatever, it's notlike I bought one anyway. That cow took my purse-” and with thatJuney spun round and slapped Kaylaer clean across the face.

***

He had never seenCholden fly off the handle like that. Even when working she wasalways calm and in control. He knew she was capable of extreme anger-but only when greatly pushed. That army must have rattled her; thator she had developed an attachment to the girl. Stranger things havehappened.

He watched on as thechild recoiled from shock. She would have to learn to keep that incheck. Never show weakness; that was part of the basics.

Cholden dug deep intoher pocket, and as if a switch had been flipped; the pulse in hisclosed hand became strong. The echo pulse becoming almost tangible.He felt compelled to go down to her- as if an invisible rope waspulling him down; yet he remained perfectly still. He had anticipatedthis feeling. This longing.

He looked on, helpless,as Cholden forced the stone, his stone, into the child's hand. Henoted how she instinctively pocketed it- as if she knew that itshould be there. No wonder it hadn't felt as strong as it shouldhave; Cholden had had it. He looked down to replace her staring updirectly at him. Their eyes locked. It was only a split second but itwas enough to confirm what he already suspected. She knew he wasfollowing them.

With that she turned onher heel and stalked off across the square, shouting an order;

“Follow me.” And heknew that it wasn't just for her team.