1
Simon crouched at the edge of the shadow-darkened woods and stared into a clearing where a lone house stood. The knee of his jeans soaked up lingering raindrops from a late-afternoon thunderstorm. The dampness annoyed him, and he quietly repositioned himself so he could wipe away the irritating mud and leaves.
He wondered for a moment if jeans had been the best option, then mentally rolled his eyes. It wasn’t as if he had a section of his closet specifically for scared-shitless situations. And as much as the wet fabric had served as a momentary distraction, he couldn’t deny that he was currently, in fact, scared shitless.
He forced his attention back to the house and looked for any signs of life. Tucked in the mountains of East Tennessee, its rustic yet charming aged-wood exterior and shutter-trimmed windows welcomed visitors and suggested a home where a family lived and loved.
A dogwood petal drifted from a nearby tree and landed on Simon’s cheek. He blew it off and watched it fall to the ground like a pale-pink snowflake. The cheery blossoms completed the illusion. Their light, sweet scent lingered on the spring breeze as they floated through the air and covered the grass with little dots of color.
This wasn’t anyone’s happy home, no matter how many dogwoodsbloomed merrily in the yard. His magic told him that, called him here over and over, even though he’d been trying for the past two days to ignore it. The dark magic being performed at this place exceeded his skill level, and Simon had never felt anything this evil before.
As an apprentice, Simon shouldn’t be handling a situation of this magnitude, but he couldn’t keep pretending the screams for help didn’t exist. His mage master had warned him time and again to stay away from other magical creatures, to avoid the ones who would take advantage of his power and his very nature.
However, these weren’t powerful creatures out to get him. Simon trusted that the very magic that gave him life wouldn’t lead him into danger. It must have brought him here because he could help. The voices calling to his mind were children, young ones, and Simon could feel their fear like he could feel his own breath.
The situation was more dangerous because these were not human children. Magical creatures violently protected their young, much like everyone else, but they had additional resources at their disposal. If caught here, it would be a rip-apart-first-and-ask-questions-later scenario. The last thing he wanted was to come face-to-face with a pissed-off werewolf defending its young.
Simon had tried to stay out of it, but two days had passed, and their pack still had not come for them. He had stayed in his house since Friday afternoon, when he’d first heard the calls for help.
It went against his nature to ignore anyone who needed him, especially when the very core of his magic told him it was the right thing to do. But helping them went against his training and mage law. Simon didn’t think their desperate pleas would penetrate the firmer shields of any better-trained mages, and if they did, Simon was pretty sure the other mages wouldn’t bother responding.
They were just children, though, and it was tearing him in two. By Sunday evening, Simon realized he was the only one who would help them. He had to do whatever it took to get those children back to their families where they belonged. Even if it broke all the rules.
Dusk finally fell, and the shadows lengthened to fully darken the clearing. Simon couldn’t stand the torment any longer. Five kidscalling out to his magic for help was more than he could bear.
Now, with the cover of night as added protection, he felt more confident. Simon opened himself to the flow of his magic, and his fortitude increased with the added strength. He might not be as strong as some of the other mages, but the rush of his power opening for him made him believe he had the abilities he needed to get through this unfamiliar situation.
With a deep breath, he lowered his shields and reached out toward the house. He sensed adults there, three of them. Two human and oneOther. Simon paused at the essence of the third, trying to recognize it without pushing so hard that he gave himself away.
He couldn’t identify the murky, clouded mind, so he gently steered his powers away and searched for the signatures of the children.There, in a lower level. All five of them, scared and growing weak. Something was draining them of their power slowly and painfully.
One of the humans stepped outside and began walking the perimeter of the house. Dressed in jeans and a camouflage jacket, he carried a hunting rifle. Simon watched him scan the area with military precision, and he feared he’d be found out before he even got started. He shrank back farther into the shadows and used his magic to cloak himself in darkness.
The Cimmerian Cloaking spell was one of the first abilities he’d mastered during his training, and it remained one of his strongest talents. Only another mage could see through the spell, and some mages, like the master training him, could hide from others of their kind as well.
Simon used his mind to call the man. He turned and stared at the spot where Simon crouched before he began to move toward him. Simon smiled at the memory of a game he had played as a child and pushed a thought into the man’s mind.
Here. Face the tree. Slowly count to a hundred thousand.
The man complied and began the count as Simon stepped out of his hiding place. Simon let out a relieved breath that the compulsion had worked and took the gun carefully from the man’s hands. He hid it under the low branches of a nearby tree and then crept closer to the house.
Looking over his shoulder, he made sure the counting man remainedfocused on his task, which gave Simon some reassurance he would be safe. He just hoped the spell would hold once he entered the house.
Through the kitchen window, Simon could see the other human standing at the stove, and he heard the man grumbling to himself. “I don’t know why I have to handle the damn cooking. Why feed the little shits if he’s just gonna drain them dry?”
As Simon delved into the man’s subconscious, his thoughts became as loud as his mouth.I wish he would hurry his ass up and finish it so we can get out of here. I don’t want trouble with any fucking pack of wolves.
Yeah, Simon thought,I wouldn’t either.He sent a gentle nudge to the man’s mind:You must cook all this food for the wolves. They will eat you if you don’t cook for them!Simon covered his mouth to muffle a laugh when a look of horror came over the man’s face and he began racing around the kitchen, pulling food from the cabinets.
Who’s the little shit now?Simon thought.
Finally, there was just the Other left to distract. Humans were easy, susceptible to his suggestions. An Other would probably not be so easy to control, and worse, Simon had no experience to guide him. But the children’s fear reinforced his courage, and before he could change his mind, Simon opened the back door and entered the house. The man in the kitchen didn’t even look up from his task, and Simon slipped quietly past him.
The Other was down with the young ones, and their distress was growing. The closer Simon got to them, the more their terror grew, from the aching mental thread that had drawn him here to a mind-clenching psychic rope that threatened to strangle his connection to his magic. He fought back his anxiety and followed the cord to the basement door. He opened it, and the smell of their horror made him want to retch into the musty opening leading down the steps into darkness.
Simon placed a hand over his rolling stomach and tried to breathe through his mouth.It’s now or never, he thought as his nausea eased slightly. He reinforced his cloaking spell, even though he didn’t want to use precious energy. Higher-level mages had deeper wells of magic, but it took Simon time to recharge when he used this much power.Nevertheless, he needed to give himself a little extra time to evaluate what he was up against.
He started down the wooden steps, taking each step slowly to keep the boards from creaking beneath his feet. A single lightbulb lit the basement, but it provided enough light for Simon to see. Shelves of canned goods lined one wall, and piles of dusty boxes took up more of the dank space. From the number of cobwebs decorating everything, the place hadn’t been touched in years.
