Stolen Luck

"...and Georg had me thinking it was Pixies, so I started looking for telltale pixie dust all over after training! Of course once Georg figured that out, he went to Tarmas and…"

Brianna was laughing. It didn't happen often, and she surprised herself by giggling along to Bevil's story. They were sitting against an outside wall of the Starling barn, telling stories and sipping on harvest mead. The chill of the evening air was held off by the nearby bonfire, around which the children were roasting apples and bread. All in all, she found this to be a very pleasant end to the day.

It hadn't taken Brother Merring very long to heal her head and for her to regain consciousness after the fight. Bevil and Amie, miraculously, had managed to defeat the Mossfelds even without her, and she had woken up just to be dragged to a victory celebration.

She looked over at her comrades. Bevil was still talking animatedly. He had slipped one arm around Amie, who did not seem to mind this show of affection. On the contrary, she was leaning contently against his shoulder as he talked. Bree wondered whether those two being more than friends might change her own friendship with them.

The thought hovered there for a moment before her eyes snapped open wide.

Friends. I really do have friends. Huh.

Fact was, she was beginning to really appreciate the two of them instead of just tolerating them. Amie had a quick mind, much like Brianna herself liked to think she had when the likes of Wyl Mossfeld didn't make her freeze up. Bevil, though not as quick-witted, was good company, and she had gotten used to him being a bit slow on the uptake on occasion. He had brawn instead, as he had proven beyond a doubt in the brawl. Beyond that, she had realized today that the people of West Harbor seemed to look at her with slightly less skeptical eyes when she was in company of the other two. Bevil's mother Retta had even given her a smile and asked whether she "still made up these wonderful stories".

Whether I still make up lies about everything under sun is what you meant, Retta.

Daeghun's plan had ended up working the way he had intended, she realized. Life was tolerable now, enough so that she likely wouldn't try to run again in the near future. She still couldn't picture herself marrying the likes of Bevil and starting a family or any of that nonsense, the kind of thing Amie seemed to be hoping for. She was pretty sure that her own idea of a fulfilling life didn't include a small village surrounded by swamp land. The thing was, she wasn't quite sure what it did include. And she had a feeling that, as long as she stayed in West Harbor, she wouldn't have a chance to find out.

She had heard the saying that the people who made a living surrounded by the Mere of Dead Men were considered tough, stubborn and above all, steadfast. Lived a Harborman, died a harborman, went the saying. It was difficult to leave the swamp behind when it was all one was accustomed to. Much as she disliked West Harbor, Brianna was used to its rhythm, to the presence of the Mere. She knew where the worst dangers lay and what it meant when the water changed color, she was familiar with the sounds of the swamp and its inhabitants. To be away from all of it had to be disorienting. She was afraid of that, of becoming too complacent and missing her chance to make her path elsewhere. As long as Daeghun wanted her to stay, she had no choice but to stay, but her foster father could not keep her here forever. She just hoped that, once he did decide to let her go, she would know to seize her opportunity. Whenever that might be.

"Let's go for a harvest run!"

Bree snapped out of her thoughts to the sound of Amie's voice. A few of the farm girls were already gathering around her, squealing their approval.

"A harvest run! Brilliant idea, Amie!" someone cheered.

Brianna had never been on a harvest run before, though she knew what they were all about. Running through seven different fields and plucking seven different flowers was supposed to guarantee good luck until the next harvest, but it had to be done by girls, who had to hurry before the boys caught up to them and stole their luck. A harvest run was supposed to be done at dusk, which was already past, but Amie cleverly cast a light spell on a branch so they would be able to see. Before Brianna could think, she was running after Amie along with four other girls, hair flying, laughing infectiously, making for the first field.

The run was swift, and Brianna realized with some surprise that Amie, who was as much of a bookworm as she was herself, was setting a fast pace and holding it. Brianna herself started gasping halfway, and she was not the only one. Salina Redfell next to her nearly dropped her flowers as she strained to keep running, her face glowing red.

"Slow down , Amie," another girl called. "The boys are nowhere in sight and we've only two more fields to go.

Amie relented, dropping back next to Brianna as the group of girls slowed to a brisk walk. She looked very pretty with her blond hair shining in the magical light of the branch and her cheeks flushed a healthy pink. With some regret, Brianna thought about how nobody would ever be saying the same of her after she'd been running. She knew without looking in a mirror that her face was red with strain and her unruly hair was most likely sticking out wildly in all directions.

"A lovely evening, is it not?" Amie was smiling at her. Bree wondered what had prompted the other girl to be stating such an obvious fact, but she bit her tongue and simply nodded.

"I was wondering something." Amie grasped her hand and they fell back a little, until they were just out of earshot of the other girls if they talked quietly. "You saw Bevil…"

"Course I did," Bree nodded. "What about it?"

"Well, I was wondering… do you think I, well, is it a bad idea?" Amie was stumbling over her words. Bree raised her eyebrows.

"You're asking me that?"

"We are friends, aren't we?" Amie sounded a bit hurt.

Oh, yes, antagonize the only one here who's been kind to me, shall I?

"I didn't mean it like that," she said quickly. "It's just that I wouldn't know much about this sort of thing, would I?"

"I just want to know what you think." Amie sighed. "Bevil is kind and all, but he, well…"

"He's not the sharpest sword in the smithy," Brianna said without thinking. Amie's loud laughter took her by surprise.

"Yes, exactly. But I like him, and…"

She was cut off when one of the girls ahead of them screamed.

"They're coming! They're coming!"

Then they heard rowdy, male hooting and laughter from their left, and all of the girls started screaming and running in a wild frenzy. Amie and Brianna were still holding hands, dragging each other along, but then someone large and solid tackled Amie and knocked her off her feet. She squeaked and screamed and Brianna could hear Bevil's badly suppressed laughter even before she turned towards her friends. And then she saw them both, the magically glowing branch illuminating their faces as they lay in the field. They were looking at each other, their expressions suggesting that they'd forgotten all about Brianna. She saw them kiss timidly, clumsily, and suddenly felt very much like she was intruding.

She stumbled backwards, disoriented now that there was no more light to lead her across the field. In the distance she heard more screams and squeaks, giggles and shouts, but nobody seemed to be interested in stopping her own harvest run. It seemed that her sudden acceptance was limited to the times when Bevil and Amie were with her. Nobody in West Harbor wanted to have anything to do with her when she was without them.

With a shrug, she figured that a bit of luck for the next year couldn't hurt, and so she sped up to a run again. There was the rest of this field and then another, and one more flower to pick in between the two. Might as well finish what she had started.

She was in between fields when someone was suddenly next to her. She felt herself grabbed round the waist and lifted, and for a moment she was naïve enough to think one of the boys might be playing the harvest run game with her after all. Then she stumbled hard and fell to the ground with the other's weight pulling her down. A hand covered her mouth roughly, a body shifted to hold her down. The motion was too familiar. Her insides felt as though they'd been turned to ice.

"Hey Storm," Wyl's voice was pure acid as he pressed himself against her, one hand already forcing its way through her layers of clothes. "I'm thinking you owe me one."

Amie found her much later as she was sitting by the river. She had her head propped on her knees and was staring into the dark water impassively. The moon was in full bloom by now, and a cool wind had risen to combat the humidity so common to the Mere.

"Bree? I was wondering where you went!" The other girl was out of breath, and there was an undertone of bliss in her voice as she spoke. "Bevil and I, we, um…"

She giggled freely. Brianna closed her eyes, willing Amie to shut up, to turn away and leave her. Amie wouldn't do her that favor, dropping into the grass next to her instead.

"Gods, I can't believe it happened. It just happened, and, oh Bree, I was wondering if you had ever…"

Amie broke off suddenly. Brianna hoped that the other girl would have realized by now that she didn't feel like talking. She might feel insulted that Brianna didn't care about her and Bevil's roll in the hay or wherever it had ended up happening, but at least Brianna would be left by herself, and that was all that mattered to her now. There was a long moment of silence.

"What happened to you?" Amie asked softly. Her tone was very different now, full of concern. Brianna opened her eyes and turned her head back to her friend. Amie had cast a light spell on yet another branch, and she gasped as she caught sight of Brianna's face. Brianna had fought more desperately than ever before this time, but Wyl had been in a hurry. A black eye was the worst of it among a few scratches to her face, but it was apparently enough to unsettle Amie.

"I fell," she said.

"You got all that from falling?" Amie asked incredulously. "There's no way, Brianna."

Apparently, it's time I use that universally hated talent of mine again.

"One of the boys caught me, just before the last field." This far it's even the truth. "He was… a bit rougher with me than necessary, and his elbow caught me to the face. I don't think he meant to hurt me though."

"That doesn't excuse this." Amie's cool hand brushed the tender skin around her eye. Who was it?"

"I don't know. It was too dark to see. You had the branch, remember?"

Brianna had figured out a long time ago that a subtle dose of guilt worked wonders in keeping just about anyone from asking too many questions. It worked on Amie like a charm.

"Oh Bree, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" The other girl moved closer and put her arm around Brianna's shoulders. "I should have stayed with you. Bevil and I both should have. I'm sorry. We were so selfish. And your clothes are torn – here, let me mend them."

"Don't worry about it," Brianna muttered, but Amie had already whispered a spell and the tears and holes in her tunic were knitting themselves back together. Brianna felt a prickling sensation where the magic touched her skin, and rubbed over the spots with her fingertips. There was just something about arcane power that made her feel funny.

"Thanks," she said.

For a long while, they were both quiet. Amie was likely contemplating Bevil, which left Brianna free to wonder how in the hells she would ever manage to escape Wyl Mossfeld's clutches. She had thought - dared to hope, really - that he might have given up on her, now that she wasn't usually to be caught alone anymore. But he had simply been biding his time. And now she felt sullied and dirty again, so disgusted with herself her stomach churned. His seed was half dry on her thighs, and her mouth still held the foul taste of that kiss he had forced on her, his tongue so deep in her mouth she had gagged from it.

She hoped Amie wouldn't notice the quiet tears that were running down her cheeks now. Turning towards her, Brianna realized that she needn't have worried because something else had caught Amie's attention, across the river by the village square.

"There is smoke," Amie said almost dreamily, and then her voice was suddenly sharper as she snapped out of her reverie. "Brianna, there is smoke! Something is wrong!"

Brianna couldn't have cared less if someone's barn was on fire. Right now she didn't care about anything much. She simply shrugged, half-hoping that Amie would leave to investigate and let her sit alone with her thoughts for a while.

But then the screams reached her ear, along with the ringing sounds of metal meeting metal. Her eyes went wide. Something was very wrong indeed.

She turned, just in time to see someone run towards them along the river.

"Amie? Bree?" It was Bevil's voice, thick with suppressed panic, and they both jumped to their feet and rushed to reach him.

"Thank the gods I found you," he panted. "We're under attack. West Harbor is under attack."