Imposter

Chapter 1

A child's cry cut through the morning air and Jericho froze, his hand instinctively tightening around the weed he had been struggling to pull out of the ground.

Determining the cry was only in his head, he released the weed and plucked the thorns out of his palm, hissing.

The midday sun was beating down on his shoulders and he wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. He grabbed his mini shovel and started to dig deeper down to the root.

The sting of being rejected yesterday had worn off when he learned that The Young Executioners were coming to Kor.

Just because he couldn't get a job at the docks didn't mean the Executioners would reject him, right? So, he couldn't work the fishing nets or kill a fish. So what? He could be of use to the Executioners, because they had all one thing in common.

Hatred of magickers.

A pair of hands fell over his eyes. "Surprise," a voice chirped in his ear and he spun around.

"Hey," he said. "Come to give me a hand in weeding the garden?"

His best friend wrinkled her nose, holding out her hands. "I just got my nails done," she said. "I'd hate to ruin them."

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes and whacked at the weed halfheartedly. "This thing won't come up."

Katrina laughed and tugged him to his feet. "Come on," she said. "You deserve a break. Let's go into town and get a drink."

"I have to change," he said, dusting the back of his jeans off, "and I have to make sure Vivi eats something. Give me ten minutes, flat."

He rushed up the steps to the house, letting the door bang against the wall. He ladled leftover turkey and carrot soup into a bowl and grabbed a buttered biscuit. He walked up the rickety stairs to the attic, listening to them creak and groan every step of the way.

A mouse darted in front of his feet when he reached the door, and he made a mental note to get mouse poisoning when he was in town.

"Hey, Vivi," he said gently, pushing the door open.

It squeaked in protest, and he made another note to oil the hinges.

A girl dressed in rags was huddled in the corner, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her pink and purple hung in tangles around her face, and her lifeless eyes gazed into nothingness.

"I brought you something," he said, walking over and crouching down in front of her. "It's been a while since you've eaten last. Are you hungry?"

Her head shook, the movement almost escaping his eye.

Viviane hadn't spoken a word since that day. She communicated in gestures that could only be guessed at.

Jericho licked his lips, moving closer to his big sister and setting the bowl down. "I'll bring you back something from town," he offered. "There should be leftovers from the farmer's market yesterday."

She shook her head again, and his chest deflated.

Leaning forward, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I swear, I'll make him pay for doing this to you," he whispered.

Leaving the soup and biscuit on the floor next to her, he walked back downstairs.

He changed out of his sweaty, dirty clothes, noticing with dismay that his best pair of jeans had a tear in the right knee. They were also noticeably a few inches too short for him now.

His growth spurt last year had been demanding he buy new clothes, but the docks had rejected him and he didn't know what other kind of work he could do.