Shadow of the Avatar

Chapter 10 -- Off To See the Wizard...or Not

My competitiveness has always been something of a handicap. It's a trait that I've noticed that separates me from many women. I suppose it's related to the same flaw in me that likes to take risks and rise to challenges. I must have gotten that from my father...or did I...?

-- Wren

Wren stood in the tavern doorway looking for the junglelands myrmigynes. Nothing. It was as if they stepped out the door and vanished. Breaths still came a little hard, and the smoke from the bar had left an itchy feeling in her chest. Her stomach burned from the strong ale.

Clutching the phoenix emblem, she stepped out avoiding bits of rubble caused by Beia's frustrated attacks on the bricks. The air smelled of dust, lye, and wood cleaner. All down the street shop keepers swept, lowered awnings, and rolled away carts in preparation for closing. Customers hurried about to get deals on the day's leftovers.

Wren focused past the bustle on the busy lane toward the forbidding blue-gray spire that belonged to the wizard of Ivaneth. Cinnibar's tower had been a third smaller and had nothing like the extensive grounds surrounding this one.

Studying her goal, she rubbed the talisman, clicking her thumbnail in the indentations on the back. How thoughtless she'd been to risk this last remnant of Grahm. She felt the impressions again. Strange, she never remembered feeling those before.

She pulled her gaze away from the tower and examined the phoenix. Her grip tightened. The indentations were letters inscribed in the metal. Liandra. Who or what was that? A suspicion dug at the back of her mind. Did the Damrosil or Beia put it there?

More questions. No time for them now. Brethren members suffered at the hands of the Dagger right now. A cold rush of guilt went through her. She played games while they languished. She must get to the wizard. Her friends needed help.

A voice from close behind startled her. "Hey, lady."

Heart thudding, she spun and pulled her sword. She yanked back on her stroke when she saw it was a young boy.

A lanky youngster wearing a tattered wool jacket and canvas breaches covered his head with his arms. "Don't hit! Wanted to talk is all!"

She let out a breath. "Fool." She slammed the sword back in the sheath. "Get killed that way."

Bronze-colored eyes glassy, the boy stared at her from between stick-like arms. After a few moments, he straightened and grinned at her. Red-haired and freckle infested, he looked gawky with big ears, a pug nose, and a smile that appeared to be more gaps than teeth.

Wren put fists on hips. She let this kid sneak up on her. "Well?" she growled.

He flinched. "Uhhh, you're new around here, right?"

Wren sighed. "Not to be unkind, but you have anything beyond the obvious to say? I'm in a hurry."

"I--" He swallowed. "I saw you play daggers. Bet you're the best dagger player in the world!"

This must lead someplace. "Thanks. So, if I am?"

He tentatively met her eyes. "That is a guild tattoo right?" He pointed at her neck.

Wren frowned and rubbed under her left ear. It'd been summers since she received her membership mark and she rarely thought about it. How did he know it was a guild sign? She sized him up, noting the wrapped on foot bindings and worn patched fabric.

"You don't want a sponsor do you, Kid? You're too young."

His face reddened. "Am not!"

Hit that one. No time to argue. Besides, she'd been a part of the Brethren for a year by the time she was his age. "Don't make the mistake I did. A guild is a waste. You--" She stopped herself. "Find someone else."