Like this, the magic dampening has me in its grasp.
I can’t cast. I can’t form a spell.
Fuck.
I sprint to the corner, out of view from the watch towers. Is the repulsion spell even working?
No.
Can I shift back?
Dragon? You there?
For a heart stopping second there is no response, but then a low chuff sounds in my chest.
Asshole. He’s there. My innate magic is OK but the arcane? Dead.
In the fading dark, I sprint up the bleachers until the very top, then settle myself in the most shadowed corner just as the sky is beginning to lighten.
The sun is hidden by a thick layer of smog.
A heavy metal door at the far end of the yard groans open. A single figure walks out, wearing a thin, dirty jumpsuit that looks like it offers zero protection against the cold. He doesn't look around, just starts a fast jog around the space.
I watch, getting stiff and bored as he completes twenty laps. Finally he walks to the bleachers and starts to climb.
His long sandy-brown hair is knotted on the top of his head, allowing me to see the barely healing black eye and busted lip he’s sporting. I watch as he stares out toward the distant hilltop where his parents are supposed to be.
"Taliesin?" I whisper from the shadows.
The boy freezes. He doesn't turn around, but I see his shoulders bunch and fists clench. “Whoever the fuck you are,” he rasps, “you’ve five seconds to get out of here, or you are going to be in a world of hurt.”
“Your mom says to tell you I’m as safe as Grandpa’s Kingfisher.” Whatever the fuck that means. It’s the phrase Opal gave me to show Taliesin I’m friend not foe.
I step forward just enough for him to see my silhouette.
“What the fuck? Who are you, how’d you get in here?” he hisses.
“I’m working with your cousin Willow against the Conclave. We need to get in contact with the Unbound.”
He exhales a long breath. “Willow? As in my cousin Willow Bloomhower? This is bullshit. Last I heard, she was cozying up to the Elites at Validus Vale.” He moves closer, drawing himself up to full height.
The little fucker is actually taller than me. But I’ve no time for this posturing.
“Listen, Taliesin. There are seven kidnapped children at your parent’s farm. We rescued them from the Conclave’s labs. We think the only safe way to find their families is through this rebel group. Whoever they are.”
“Shit,” he mutters. “Fuck.”
Taliesin glances around. “I’ve got five minutes before the guards come out for me.” He looks me dead in the eye. “And I will kill you if my parents get hurt by any of this.”
“Fair enough. Now tell me what we need.”
He looks heavenward for a moment, then nods. “Fine. You have to leave a string of numbers, written in yellow chalk, on the east wall of the old glass factory. Do that then wait inside. Someone will come, it could be hours, could be days.”
“And the numbers?”
I repeat what he tells me several times until I know I have them memorized.
“But how the fuck are you going to get out of here? I don’t even get how you got in.”
