Chapter 6: Coin Tricks and Fire Light

The coin shot over the heads of the people in front of Alex, drawing a graceful arc through the air.

He winced as it missed his target: the back of the mayor’s assistant’s neck, but it did collide with his skinny back. The lean man flinched at the impact as the coin fell to the stones with a clink. The couple behind him did not miss it fall, and the wife was darting for it just as he turned around.

“What the-?!” He grabbed his purse protectively, his face turning purple. “Thief! Robber! Cutpurse!”

“Hey, you dropped this!” she snapped. “I was going to give it back to you!”

Alex didn’t know if she was telling the truth, but it didn’t matter: the rich man didn’t believe it.

“Guards! Guards!” he cried, drawing a sap from his belt.

“Hey!” the bruiser stepped forward. “You touch my wife with that and you’ll have my fist where your teeth used to be!”

All eyes turned to the commotion, including the guards’.

Alex discretely started flipping more coins toward the front of the line; The Mark improved his aim with each toss, using each previous one as a reference. The gold coins came rolling to a halt at peoples’ feet. Eyes dipped, briefly glancing up to see if it was raining coins, and—desperate as they were to secure a ship’s passage—many darted for them without questioning where they were coming from. Some quickly muttered about Uldar’s blessings.

“Hey! Get your hands off that one! That’s mine!” a man cried.

“I saw it first!” a woman shouted back.

“Thieves! Those are mine! You’re all thieves!” the mayor’s assistant shouted and swept out with his sap, striking at someone who darted for a coin near his horse.

That turned out to be a mistake, for the person who was stuck by the sap had cried out in pain.

And that person was the bruiser’s wife.

“That does it!” the huge man roared, cocking back a giant fist.

Bang!

The mayor’s assistant flew off his horse in a limp heap.

The brawl was on quickly after that. Curses and punches filled the air as the front of the line disintegrated.

“Alex!” Selina cried out and as he scooped her up in his arms.

“It’ll be okay,” he said quickly, resisting the urge to look back. “Theresa, where’re the priests?”

“They’re looking this way,” she hissed.

“Crap. Come on, stay behind me and act like everything’s okay.” He stepped out of line trying to look as casual as he could.

The Mark helpfully flooded him with images of himself walking naturally and calmly. He allowed it to guide his steps, letting guards pass as they sought to break up the brawl, and then stepped up to those who were left at the gate. Peter and Paul stood on either side of the town entrance, shaking their heads at the scrum.

“It’s too bad about people.” Alex sighed as he reached them. “Neighbours all their lives, and at the first sign of trouble, they eat each other.”

“Eat each other? Bah, this is no worse than a festival night at the Bear’s Bowl: they’ll have a few bumps, lose a few teeth and be fine afterward.” Peter nodded as though he were dolling out ancient wisdom.

“If any of us are fine,” Paul muttered. “Evil times ahead.”

There was a pause.

“So, do you mind if we cut in line?” Alex asked, trusting in the mark as it reminded him what his face looked like when it was calm. His fear that the priests would notice him was mounting.

“There is no more line now.” Peter brought up his list. “Or at least, whatever line is left, you’re at the front of it: you had the good sense not to start any of this. Come on then, we’ll get you on your way.”

If Alex didn’t have his arms full of little sister, he might have hugged Peter right then and there.

“Right, you three…” Peter continued. “Names?”

By the time the brawl had been cleared, Alex and his companions were long past the gate and onto the road. A nervous energy filled him, and he hurried along, passing the folk streaming from the town of Alric.

“Are they following us?” he asked Theresa for the thirtieth time.

“No.” She threw a quick look over her shoulder. “Stop asking.”

“What are you looking at?” Selina tried to follow Theresa’s gaze.

“Just making sure that fight’s behind us,” Alex said quickly, throwing silent gratitude toward his parents and the two guards. When he made full wizard, he really was going to give those two beautiful guardsmen the biggest reward they’d ever seen. He didn’t care if they saw it as a bribe; he’d happily force it into their hands if he had to.

“Well, that’s step one,” he said to Theresa when they were out of earshot of the gate. With a grunt, he set Selina back on her feet.

“Are those people going to be okay, Alex?” Selina looked back worriedly.

“Didn’t you hear those kind, honourable, brave guardsmen?” he chuckled. “They’ll be fine.”

Theresa looked at him with suspicion. “How did you do that? Some kind of magic?”

He couldn’t resist shrugging his marked shoulder meaningfully.

“Yeah, let’s call it a kind of magic.”

He had a feeling he was going to like this mark.

“Yeeeessss!” Alex cheered.

He had struck the flint, sparking the tinder to crackle with a small flame. Carefully, he leaned down, blowing on the little fire as the mark guided him, providing memories of others starting campfires, showing him how to feed it with air to give it more life. Just like pouring mana into a spell array, the flame grew and caught the dried branches he and Theresa had gathered earlier.

At last, the wood popped and crackled as he tossed another branch onto the pile. Pleased with his accomplishment, he sighed happily, sat back and slowly began massaging his aching feet. It had been a long day of walking, but they’d made good time. The gloom from surrounding trees receded as their fire grew, matching the host of campfires stoked by other travellers dotting the fields beyond the southern reaches of Coille Forest.

“Are you okay, little goblin?” he turned to Selina, who was sitting on her sleeping roll a good distance from the flame.

“M-mhm,” she murmured. “Good job, Alex.”

Selina would not look toward him, as that would mean looking at the fire; she did not like fire for good reason. Alex had needed two years of self-talk before he was able to work with it without hyperventilating; she was young, she could take as long as she needed.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Forcing himself to stand, he walked over—his feet complaining with every step—and flopped down beside her at an angle where she wouldn’t have to look at the flame.

Her gaze rose slowly. “You…you didn’t have to do that. If you want to, you could stay by the fire.” Taking a deep breath, she glanced toward the flame and—to his surprise—managed to look at it for a few heartbeats before quickly turning away. “I want to be like you one day…and be able to look at it.” A steely note entered her voice. “I don’t want to be afraid of fire anymore.”

With a smile, he reached out and patted her head. “Were you practicing?”

She closed her eyes, taking another deep breath, and silently nodded.

“Well, I’m proud of you, but you don’t need to rush yourself. Take as much time as you want, and it’s okay if it gets too scary.”

He leaned back and undid his cloak, taking in the air of the warm summer night. During the day, it had grown very hot, but fear of The Mark glowing like when it first appeared made him want as many layers over his shoulder as possible. He had drawn some odd looks, but since he was naturally taller than most folk—and his group did include a cerberus—he’d draw some attention no matter what. He figured he could live with the looks.

Shaking off his contemplation, he looked to the ‘project’ Selina was working on.

In her small hands was a strange figure of dried twigs in the shape of a person, held together by carefully tied lengths of long grass. Even as she watched her brother, her clever little fingers busied themselves attaching another twig to a wooden ‘arm’ to represent a tiny sword.