Pursued - Entire book

Chapter 50

The next sixth-day after the cording, Klair arrived from errands to The Whistler to find the interior dark. I'll need to buy us more oil, Klair thought as he walked into the workshop. With the increased profit from the wormwood, why is Bejja penny pitching? Today was off day. He knew no one else would be in the shop except for his mentor. All the shutters were closed. The usually bright room was cast in shadow.

Something smelled funny. Not wood but something that might be found in one of Scov's mines, some kind of metallic...

As he entered, he saw the center of the room had been cleared. Work benches and tables were shoved against the walls. Bejja sat in the middle of the open area gagged and bound to his worm chair. There were dozens of long strands of... shimmering metal hanging from the rafters around him. They looked like a chandelier of frozen rain. They glimmered against the late afternoon sunlight.

Bejja strained in his restraints and gag upon seeing Klair, frantically shaking his head.

Had Floren and his cohorts come back for revenge? Klair thought his threat would have convinced them to leave the city. He'd been generous in their first encounter. He'd warned them. He would not be lenient this time.

Klair cautiously walked further into the room and except for his mentor, it looked empty.

Could someone be hiding in the shadows? He glanced over at one of the torches lining the wall. He imagined how easy it would be to lift all them simultaneously and float them to the far corners of the chamber to pierce every shadow with light. Klair suspected that the sight of such an act might scare anyone not prepared for such a display. No one could hide from his magic. But he had promised to never use it again.

Could he abandon that promise so easily?

Suppressing the temptation, Klair took one torch in hand. He searched the room to find the intruder. He would ignite his powers if necessary if he had to suddenly defend himself or Bejja.

Except for the two of them the room was clearly empty. Why did they leave?

Now would be the time to rescue Bejja before they returned. He was alert and ready.

Bejja became frantic trying to tell him to stay back. What's he's worried about? He looked ok. Who tied him up? Maybe someone had come and stolen something and possible thieves had fled. Klair got back just in time. He would protect Bejja. He never felt so ready. His body buzzed with anticipation.

Klair had proven that Floren the man and his men were no match to his powers. They must have realized it, since they'd tied Bejja up and fled. He would search them out and deposit Floren and company to the Elders of the city for the final third warning and true expulsion. They would have a symbol inked on the outside of their hands to identify them as criminals.

Other cities and provinces would be cautious.

Their images would be recorded and hung at each city marker. Breach expulsion would mean imprisonment. They would be stopped at the gates and never be permitted to enter the city again. The metal strings stank, yes and made his skin crawl. Strange, he usually liked the smell of metal and minerals. The display was dazzling. Just being close to them made him feel—

Floren and his men were cowards for running. They knew of his magic, certainly they would not want to test it again. He'd only need to intimidate them. Then he'd be able to maintain his promise. He'd spent the last five six-days as a Norm and would remain so for the rest of his life.

Klair lifted his hand and with one extended finger, he touched the closest metal strand. He gasped as all of his physical energy was instantly yanked from him, quicker than water escaping a broken bowl.

Blackness consumed him as Klair crumpled to the floor.