Chapter Two

The man was obviously nervous and the crowd seemed to realize an uneasy warrior could make for a dangerous warrior. They passed carefully, risking a silver-tongued merchant talking them out of money they didn't have in order to avoid his attention. It made no difference, he hardly noticed them. His dark eyes swept the bazaar intently, searching for someone or something. No one else was important.

"Maker's breath, where are you Bryce?" he growled sending a couple of women who had paused to look at him scurrying away. He had been given one task—to look after the boy—and he had looked away for one minute and his charge had disappeared. "This is why I don't have children!"

"Well that and you're off following the Commander around all the time," a voice cut in.

He looked down at Bryce who had appeared at his side from seemingly nowhere. He caught his charge's collar, "I don't know how you managed to sneak up on me like that, but your mother needs to stop teaching you her techniques."

Bryce grinned, "Where's the fun in that?" He prided himself in the skills she had taught him.

"I'll admit that there's little fun in it, but it may well keep the both of us out of trouble, which is something I'd like to do."

"Oh, come on Jin. You can't tell me you always wanted to be so serious. You're not afraid of the commander are you?" Bryce prodded the warrior, already knowing the answer. The man was always serious. Bryce wasn't sure he'd ever seen him smile. And all the men seemed to have at least a healthy fear of their commanding officer.

"Being serious has kept me alive and I was asked to keep charge of you. If I fail in that it would be well within the Commander's right to punish me severely."

Typical, Bryce told himself wryly. He could tell he wasn't going to win this battle of wills. His stomach grumbled reminding him he'd just given up the food he'd bought. He wished he had at least kept the cheese. It had been a Nevarran delicacy the merchant had called Shanklish. The girl had seemed completely lost and was so thin he was pretty sure a strong wind would have blown her away. Surely she needed it more than he did; he just hoped she appreciated the cheese as much as he would have. Her sapphire eyes, though distrusting, had been dancing with life. She would be hard to forget.

"Come, this place is far too busy," Jin said firmly. "We must meet up with Nathaniel and the commander at nightfall and dusk is fast approaching."

The shadows had indeed been growing longer. The thrum of the marketplace took on a frantic edge as people rushed to complete their errands before the vendors packed up their stalls until the sun rose once again.

Bryce hoped that the girl he had met found a safe place to spend the night. Part of him wanted to look for her again, but he would never talk Jin into that.

Resigned, he nodded, "Very well, Jin. Lead the way."

O-o-O

She didn't miss the orphanage, but she did miss having a bed to sleep in. The market had taken on a sinister edge as night had fallen and she wanted to escape the streets before they grew more dangerous. She had found her way into an abandoned tomb still under construction. The Nevarrans built elaborate tombs and often started constructing their own while they were still relatively young. It wasn't an ideal place to sleep, but the Templars wouldn't venture here and as superstitious as the Nevarrans were regarding their dead she doubted any would enter a tomb, even an empty one.

As she lay awake she wondered if anyone at the orphanage had realized she was gone. The other children usually ignored her; the best she could hope for was that they had spared a passing thought for her when they fought over who got her bed. She was lucky that summer had come early this year. She didn't have a blanket or coat and a cold night could have meant the end of her. Rolling over she tucked her head into the crook of her arm and closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep. She had a lot before her and she'd need her wits about her if she were to survive.

The stone was cool, easing her flushed skin from a day in the sun. So much of her time had been spent indoors that her fair skin had burned under the sun's gaze. She wished she had an ounce of magical training. She knew there were mage healers and they surely could have eased the sting that prickled along her skin. Sadly the only control of her magic she had was her ability to hide it.

It felt as if she had only just drifted to sleep when she opened her eyes to a bright and hazy world. When she was a child her escapes to the fade were a relief from the monotonous blur of the orphanage. There were grand halls and open fields. She had spent what seemed like days watching the ocean glistening in the distance while she stood at the crest of a hill bathed in waist-high grass of emerald green.

This time it was different. There were no discernable surroundings except for the floor beneath her. Light filtered in from above, but she couldn't tell if there was no ceiling or if there was a sky light. It just seemed to emanate from everywhere. It seemed like it should be too bright, but it wasn't; it was soft and oddly welcoming. The places before had been beautiful but they had always carried an edge of otherness about them. This place was different. It was right and comforting. If she had ever had a home she imagined the feeling of belonging would have been like this.

That feeling faded, but did not completely dissipate as the feeling of otherness made itself present. Something was coming.

"Hello?"

The only reply was the echo of her voice.

She tried again. "Is anyone there?"

The hair on the back of her neck stood up even though no reply came. She could feel something watching her, she knew it; her instincts had not betrayed her thus far.

"I know you're there!" she yelled.

There is no need to yell.

Her feet tangled together and she fell to her knees when she whirled to face whoever had just spoken. The voice seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere. It was as if it sounded within her head though surely that could not be right. Her eyes fell on a figure that was barely discernible from the light it seemed to emit. She had never had any formal training on the fade or its inhabitants but she knew enough to know that there were benevolent spirits as well as demons. The problem was she had no way to discern which was which.

She lowered her voice a decibel, but it lost none of its ferocity. "What are you? Demon or spirit?" she demanded.

Peace, child. The being circled her, which didn't ease her tension. If anything she felt more cornered than before. You have grown since last I saw you.

"We have never met!" Madea snarled.

There was amusement in this creature's voice now. My, you are ferocious. It paused in front of her.It is true, we have never met formally, but I have seen you many times before.

Fear spread through her and settled deep in the pit of her stomach. How had this creature observed her without her knowledge? If it had the ability to do that what else could it be capable of? The possibilities were frightening.

It seemed to sense her trepidation. Do not fear. I mean you no harm.

"You'll forgive me if I say I can't take your word for it," she replied coldly. "I don't know you."

You could trust me.

Trust. How easily this being used the word, as if it were something so easily given. "You say that like you have earned my trust, like I know who you are…what you are." Bitter memories made acid leak into her tone.

Your abilities, and lack thereof, both protect and endanger you, child. Your father's greatest gift was teaching you how to conceal yourself as it has helped ward off the attentions of those who dwell here. But, were they ever to discover your gifts they would do anything to possess you. Never doubt that.

"They haven't kept me from your notice."

She would have been beaten for her insolence if she had used that tone with the orphanage attendants or her father, but here she was met with a gentle patience. And you should be thankful for that. For some reason you intrigue me and that has kept you safe on several occasions.

Madea shook her head, "No…No! I don't want you to be intrigued by me. I want you to leave me alone. I am an untrained mage. I can't do anything for you, or a demon!"

Your words only betray your innocence. A demon would find you a fine host, easily controlled as you have no training to keep them out. Your father did you no justice by keeping that training from you.The air around them began to hum. But I doubt he thought you'd have such precious little time together.

Madea's throat tightened as she thought about her father. It became harder for her to remember him with each passing year. There were things she'd thought she'd never forget when he'd first been taken from her. Now those memories were so hard to recall; the rare smiles he'd afforded her when she'd been especially quick to pick something up, the low hum of his voice as he'd sang to himself while he wrote. He had never sung for her, even when she'd asked, but oftentimes she would feign sleep to hear him sing softly over his work in the dark of night. Those were things she'd sworn to remember. Now they escaped her like water slipping between her fingers.

The room flashed brilliantly and she squinted against the sudden brightness. As quickly as it had illuminated it dimmed. The light quickly faded as Madea sprung back to her feet. "What's happening? What are you doing?" Her throat grew painfully tight.

You are in danger, Madea. It is time to wake up.The spirit's voice was firm now, insistent.

"What have you done?" she demanded, her voice raspy from the pain.

It is not I. You must go now. The spirit loomed in and she cringed, expecting the accustomed pain of a physical blow. It never came. Madea! You must wake-!

"WAKE UP!"

She came awake with a strangled gasp. The voice was definitely male. Panic flooded through her causing her heart to pound frantically in her chest. Had the templars finally found her? Her first day on her own and her luck had finally run out.

She quickly realized that this man was no templar. The stink of stale whiskey and rotting teeth pulled her firmly from sleep and she realized the tightening around her throat was due his large hand wrapped tightly around her throat.

A sallow, rat-like face poked over the man's shoulder. "She's a bit skinny, don't ya think?"

"What do I care? They'll buy her anyway. Look at her eyes; bright eyes she's got." The other man leaned forward and bared his yellow teeth in a semblance of a grin. "The men'll pay a pretty coin for them alone."

The fear Madea had felt in the fade was nothing compared to the raw terror that coursed through her now. She fought every instinct she had to unleash the magic she kept so tightly leashed. She didn't know how to use it; it could aid these men as easily as kill them. She had no defenses.

The hand around her throat eased, allowing her to take a desperate gulp of much needed oxygen. It was the last thing she remembered before the big man holding her down leaned into until their noses were almost touching. She squirmed against him, but it was of no use. He was far too strong for her.

"Goodnight sweetheart."

She never felt the blow to her head but one moment she was awake and the next everything went black.