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she see Meric s fire? The shattering realization took hold of her. He s
gone, she said, her voice trembling and cracking.
What are you talking about?
Meric. His elemental magick should be a beacon in here. I don t see it!
Maybe he s hidden behind one of these mounds of debris, Er ril offered. The
smoldering fires might be masking him.
Or he could be dead, Mycelle said, coldly practical.
Er ril glanced sourly at her. We ll search for the elv in after we get these
others out of here. He began to drag the og re across the dirt.
We won t find Meric here! Elena suddenly declared. Somehow she knew this was
true. He s been captured!
A section of roof suddenly crashed off to the side, startling them all. Though
the fire seemed to be losing its battle to the rain, the flames had weakened
the supports to the warehouse. Posts groaned, and the roof bowed ominously.
Captured or not, we need to get out of here! Er ril said fiercely. Elena
glanced one last time around her, grabbed Fardale s rear legs, and struggled
to haul him after the others. The wolf was heavier than she had suspected.
Groaning and straining, she fought his limp weight across the floor.
Are you all right? Er ril called back to her. I ll manage! she spat back
at him. At least her burden kept her distracted from their missing companion.
By the time they neared the door, a few townsmen had braved the dwindling
flames and pushed into the warehouse, led by the aproned man who had doused
them with water. Give em a hand, gents!
The men helped haul Tol chuk and Fardale out to the cobbled streets of the
square. Elena slipped her ruby hand back into her glove and reined in her
magick. Her vision returned to normal.
What manner of beast is this? one of them mumbled who handled the og re.
Some misbirth, another hissed at him. Poor creature s only fit to be a
carnival freak.
Maybe it were best if we d left him to the fire.
No one spoke against these sad words.
Once out in the clear air, Er ril directed the men in hauling their injured to
the Painted Pony.
I ll fetch a healer, one of them offered.
No need, Er ril said. All they need is a day or two in a warm bed.
Er ril then left with a few other men to search the warehouse for Meric. Elena
did not follow. She knew it was useless. She and Mycelle guided the men,
burdened with her fallen comrades, to their rooms.
The innkeeper of the Painted Pony watched the parade of men with wide eyes.
If they be sick, I don t want them in my inn! he hollered at the men. I
won t have no contagion in my establishment!
As if you re concerned, Heran, about the health of your patrons! scolded the
aproned man, shoving crusts of bread from underfoot. Elena had learned the
bold man was the town s cobbler. He owned the shop next to the warehouse.
As the innkeeper grumbled, they continued up the stairs.
Mogweed met Elena at the door to their rooms. I finished packing both His
eyes grew wide at the number of men and their burden. His eyes settled on the
limp form of his brother in the huge arms of the town s blacksmith. The
emotions that warred across the shape-shifter s face made it seem almost as if
he had regained his shifting skills. He backed to let them all in.
Once settled in their rooms, Elena thanked the men and offered them a handful
of coppers from the troupe s reserve.
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The cobbler shook his head at her fistful of coins. Here in Shad-owbrook,
kindness does not have to be bought with coppers.
The other men mumbled their agreement, then left.
Directed by Mycelle, Mogweed went to fetch hot water.
Alone now, Mycelle stepped up to Elena. You should get out of those soaking
clothes before a chill sets into you.
Nodding, Elena slipped off her jacket. Her eyes were fixed on the trio of
slumbering friends. Why did they not awaken? Not even the rain seemed to stir
them.
Behind her, Mycelle gasped. Elena glanced back. Mycelle had frozen midway in
removing her scabbards. Her eyes were on Elena, her expression shocked.
What is it? Elena asked.
Your& your arm! Mycelle pointed to the girl s left side.
Elena raised her bare arm. Her own mouth gaped in horror. The mossy strands
had spread from her hand, coiling and sprouting up to her shoulder. Her entire
arm now ran with vines and tiny leaves. A small purplish flower even adorned
her elbow. What is happening? she asked, her throat tightening.
Mycelle tossed aside her scabbards and crossed to Elena. She scrutinized her
arm. The boy who bewit ched you on the street. He said he needed your
magick.
Elena nodded.
This is disastrous, Mycelle said, picking at a vine near her shoulder. Her
face grew dark. I had thought it only a minor nuisance.
What?
When you loosened your magick in the warehouse, it must have given fuel for
this bewit ched growth.
She looked at Elena gravely. The swamp vines feed on your magick.
Elena pulled back from Mycelle.
The more you use it, the thicker it will grow. Until& until& Mycelle s lips
tightened. She did not want to voice her thought.
What? Tell me!
Gripping Elena s shoulders, she stared her square in the eyes. You must not
use your magick anymore.
Swear it!
But why?
Mycelle released Elena and turned away. Her firm voice dissolved into tears.
If you continue to use your magick, the vines will kill you.
Burdened with two crates, Er ril pushed into the room to find Elena resting on
a corner of a bed beside the limp form of the wolf. She had a blanket wrapped
around her shoulders, her eyes on Fardale.
Nearby, Mycelle was bent over Krai, working with needle and thread on his
injured hand. Her scabbards leaned against the walls.
I found no sign of the elv in, Er ril said as introduction. Were you able
to revive any of the others?
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