Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters except for a few that I made up. All the rest belong to the great and wonderful Tamora Pierce. You knew the routine.

Author's Note: Hey everyone! This is my first story. Please give it a chance. Also I would greatly appreciate it if you could review, good or bad, to give me feedback. Thank you and enjoy!

SO FAR FROM HOME

Chapter 1—Lost

A young woman stumbled on the hard, gray-stoned street. She looked around franticly, her long dark hair flying around her face, her dark brown eyes wide, searching for something…anything that could help her. Seeing the street filled with no-nonsense, busy people, she started walking. As she turned the corner she crashed into a man.

"Oh my god," she sputtered out nervously," I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I just…"

"Don't worry about it," the man said cutting her off, calmly smiling, trying to meet her wandering eyes. "I'm Faleron of King's Reach. Can I help you with something?"

"Umm…well…yes, please," the girl answered back anxiously, not really knowing what to do. Faleron led her to a bench behind the stone wall of Corus.

"Here…sit down. Now tell me, what's wrong?" Faleron asked while watching the nervous girl.

"I…I…I don't," she paused to take a breath, "I don't know where I am or who I am…except I know who I am, it just doesn't make sense."

Faleron hesitated then replied back to her, "Let me take you to someone who can help."

"Thank you," the girl said graciously.

As Faleron led her to the palace, his mind was bombarded with his thoughts. Recently Tyran spies had been bewitched by their mages to forget who their true identities were and who they were working for. In doing so they had committed horrendous murders to try and scare the Tortallans to give up their land. The Tyran's most recent massacre happened last month on July 17th.

The spies had worked their way into a town a little off of the southern coast. At night they had burned the people out of their homes and then viscously mutilated each and every single person there. When the King got word of this he set a company of the King's own, four Rider groups, and a handful of knights to try and sort this out.

Faleron gulped queasily. He had been one of those knights. The memory of that place, the smells, the Stormwings, and the bodies still made him sick if he thought about it for too long a time. He quickly tried to erase the memory from his head, and in so doing remembered what the King had done to this situation. King Jonathan had reacted very strongly to these terror attacks. He had ordered many of the realm's warriors, knights, Riders, the King's Own, and the army to scourer the country to find these spies. Two spies had already been caught; one by Numair Salmalín, the most powerful black-robe mage in the realm, and the other by a squad of the King's Own by a bit of luck. Unfortunately, there were still many other of those spies loose.

The girl now walking beside Faleron showed the same qualities that those spies had. Faleron wiped his sweaty palms on his tunic as he climbed the stairs that would take the pair of them to Numair Salmalín's chambers.

"He should be able to help you," Faleron said quietly as he rapped on the door.

"OK," the girl responded back equally as quiet as Faleron was. "Thank you for helping me."

The door opened to show Numair in ordinary work clothes.

"Hello. Faleron," Numair said as he nodded to Faleron. " Can I help you two with something?"

"She needs to talk to you about something," Faleron said trying to catch Numair's eye unsuccessfully because Numair was too busy studying the girl.

"Sure, why don't you come in," Numair said opening the door wide to let the girl pass into the room. As he was about to follow the girl into the room, he was interrupted by Faleron.

"Can I talk to you for a minute…in private?" Faleron asked Numair finally catching his eye. Numair held his eyes with his own as he stepped out closing the door behind him.

"What is it?" Numair asked curiously. He knew Faleron pretty well. Faleron was a quiet, polite sort of fellow who would not interrupt someone, especially if they had visitors.

"It's her," Faleron said blankly, staring at the door. "I think she's one of them…one of the spies."

Numair's head snapped up. There was a hardness in his eyes that Faleron had never seen before."

"Thanks for bringing her to me," he stated dryly. "I'll take care of it."