Charm Wars
-- EXCERPT: “This place is a real treasure trove,” Rill said as he and Jedd maneuvered the sarcophagus cover onto the ground. “If a charm seeker did open this tomb, why did she take the charm from that one Old Mage but not his staff? And why did she leave all the other charms and staffs behind? I wonder—” “How fortunate for me she did,” a voice said behind them. “And how unfortunate for you.” Rill and Jedd whirled around. Just inside the entrance stood a skinny, middle-aged man of medium height. His gray tunic and tan pants were dirty and patched and his boots old and scuffed. Oily, unkempt hair framed his pockmarked face. In his right hand, he held a staff. The light from Rill’s and Jedd’s torches danced shadows across his face, making his malevolent grin appear even more evil. A blacksmith’s vise clamped Rill’s chest making it hard for him to breathe. A rohan! A backwatcher or protector—either a mage or a bladeswoman or bladesman—who had been expelled by a noblesse matriarch for breaking her oath to serve and protect the matriarch’s family. An outcast from society no other noblesse First or Lesser Family would touch. A woman or man who was lower even than the criminals, dagger women, and prostitutes living in Caldon’s most dangerous neighborhood, The Slums. Rill’s gaze fastened on the rohan’s left hand that clutched something beneath his grimy tunic. A charm. “Actus,” the rohan mage said, his sinister smile showing he’d deliberately spoken the word loud enough for Rill and Jedd to hear. Rill eyed the staff, his stomach paining him. The rohan had activated his charm. All he had to do now was point the staff at a target and cast a spell. Rill’s gaze slid to Jedd, who appeared as rigid as a marble statue. With exaggerated slowness, the rohan aimed the staff at the gap between Rill and Jedd, then deliberately moved it from one to the other. His lips drew up into a cruel smile, making Rill feel like a mouse being toyed with by a cat. Rill choked on a lump of regret. Why didn’t I listen to Jedd and leave the coffins alone? We could of been partway home by now. I could of been a mage. But now I never will be. Slowly and deliberately, the rohan inhaled a mouthful of air and said, “Luco!” Rill’s frightened breath blended with Jedd’s when the crystal burst into life, and white mage light flooded the tomb. The rohan laughed as if he’d just watched a first-rate comedy routine as he stepped several paces forward. “Scared of a little light, boys?” Rill’s gaze jumped to Jedd. His cousin was glowering at the man, his hands balled into fists. The rohan smirked at Jedd. Slowly, keeping his eyes on the rohan, Rill moved his hand toward his sword’s brown leather grip. The rohan must have had invisible eyes in the side of his head. With a chuckle, he casually pointed the staff at Rill. “Foolish boy. I can kill you before your sword’s half out of its scabbard.” Rill let his hand drop to his side. “Tsk-tsk,” the rohan said, drawing closer. “Naughty boys charm seeking. That’s a death offense. Unless you’re mages, of course. Are you mages, naughty boys?” “You know we ain’t,” Rill said through clenched teeth. The rohan stepped forward a few more paces until only a staff’s length separated them. “When I came across your well-fed and groomed horses a while ago, I thought that maybe their owners came from good families. Families with money. So I went looking for you. My goodness, you weren’t hard to find. Not with all that racket you made in here with the cougar. Boys with horses and swords. And purses hanging from their belts.” His gaze riveted itself to Rill. “And with such interesting things inside.” Rill’s heart froze into a lump of ice as he forced himself to return the rohan’s stare. He saw me take the charm. The rohan flashed them both an evil smile. “So I said to myself, ‘Self, I bet those naughty little boys are carrying some nice shiny gildas in their purses. Or maybe even a goldie.’ You got any?” “Why don’t you come closer and find out?” Rill said. He’d tried to sound cocky, but his voice broke halfway through the question. The rohan grinned, obviously enjoying himself. He pointed the staff at Rill. “Naughty boy. I hope you don’t melt.” Terror ripped through Rill like a barbed arrowhead. He had only moments to live.
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