Wow, there are so many reviews!
Thanks to Alone in the Desert. Huge review. Let me clear a few things up. Dillon is a different person. He may seem a bit like Comas, who is Lark's newest student in Magic Steps, but Comas is not around in this story. You will find out what happens to him.
Okay, the ages are messed up. I know. But once I write something, I can't change it, so Glaki is going to be five.
I also understand that Sandry has brown hair. Yes. I get it. Also, Flower Kid, the correct spelling is dyed. Please don't make a big deal out of it. Sun bleaching is a pretty commong thing. During the summer, my hair goes from raven-black to dark auburn, and I'm olive-skinned.
Anyways, I have taken long enough to update so I will finish this up now!
In a boardinghouse in Summersea, a short, stocky man named Hortassan stood before the bed. He was a spy. Usually, he did not care about his clientele or their preferences, but this one, this was different. He had not been hired for the job: he had been forced into taking it. "I-I found the mage, Your Greatness," the figure mumbled.
"You have," the person on the bed said. It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes," said the stocky man, more confident. "The mage is staying with the young women Lady Sandrilene fa Toren and Daja Kisubo, the Winding Circle mages. It – it is said that together, Lady Sandrilene, Daja, the mage you search for, and one other are capable of great things."
The one on the bed sighed. "I know this," he said in a bored tone. "Have you found the other information I wanted?"
He hesitated. The man gave him a pointed look. Hortassan gulped and said, quietly, "No, Your Greatness, I have not."
To his great suprise, the man on the bed did not make a move. "You have not. This - failure is not of my concern. I may find this information myself now. I no longer have need of you. Go now, before I change my mind."
"Th-thank you," Hortassan gasped. "Thank y-you, Your Greatness. I promise you, your secret is safe with me." He stumbled from the room in fear. This man was unnatural. Why did he choose me? he wondered for the hundreth time since he was forced to take on the job. Why?
He stepped outside his door into the dark alleyway. His musings were cut short as something painful jabbed into his back. What . . . As his vision went red, he realized:he had been stabbed. He writhed in pain as a man pulled the knife from his body and rolled him over, knowing what was coming next. He closed his eyes.
"It is done, sir," said the hitman. He was the servant of the man seated on the bed. "The man they call Hortassan will never reveal you intentions."
He laughed. "Good, good. Now, we must find these mages and the one they call Briar Moss."
"So, you're Evvy, eh?" Pasco and Evvy were walking along behind the rest of the group. They were headed to the Hub, where Tris was studying, to go and visit her. The girl looked up at the taller boy.
"Is that not what Sandry has said?" This boy greatly irritated her. No wonder. He was a, a harrier, police.
He gave her a look. "Gods, you don't hafta be so touchy."
She gave him a sour look. "Pahan Briar did not tell me the students here were so ignorant," she muttered in Chammuri.
Briar, who had heard her, frowned. "Back off," he told her in the same language. "He's not ignorant, at least, I don't think he is."
They continued on. When they finally reached the Hub, a golden-robed dedicate answered their knock. "I'm sorry," he said crisply, "Novice Trisana is busy as of now. You will have to come back later." He slammed the door before anyone could do anything.
For a moment, they just stood there, staring at the door. "Wait a second," said Briar. "How did he know we were here for Tris?"
