Solivagant

Chapter Five

Asher woke to darkness. The buzzing of crickets filled his ears, and a few gusts of cold wind blew across his face, ruffling his hair and tugging at the thin blanket draped over him. He twitched as a deep, throbbing ache in his leg made itself known, an excruciating reminder of everything that had happened.

He gingerly sat up, biting his tongue against the pain. He was in a small forest clearing, next to the smoking remains of a fire. Wade was close by, fast asleep on the ground. Henry was propped up against a tree, his back to both boys, staring out into the darkness. He hadn't noticed Asher yet.

Good. By now he and Wade had to have realized this was Asher's fault. He wasn't sure if he could handle that confrontation right now.

Taking a deep breath, Asher removed the blanket and stared at his leg. Blood had soaked through Wade's impromptu bandage, but it seemed the initial flow had ceased. He untied it with shaking hands and examined the wound. The gash was a few inches wide, a few more long, and cut deep into the muscle of his thigh. The skin around it was swollen and red.

Infection. If not for magic, he wasn't sure he could survive such an injury. Speaking of which . . .

Ignoring the pounding headache that had come to life behind his eyes, Asher raised his hands and reached out to the magic. It was the same as before--his hands glowed, his headache intensified, and the wound slowly closed, leaving his leg whole once more. The pain eased, but not entirely; there must've still been some internal damage. Asher didn't care. He just needed to be able to stand again.

Henry had turned around when he saw the light, and now rushed next to Asher. He looked at the boy's leg, and then Asher's face.

"You really are a magic-user," he marveled.

Asher winced and drew his knees to his chest. He couldn't bring himself to meet Henry's eyes. "I am."

"Wade told me what happened. Thank you."

"What?" Asher looked up and searched the smith's face. Not even a trace of the anger or even fear that should be there. "I nearly got you both killed. And now that you've been associated with a magic-user . . ." You'll be targeted as well. Because of me. "Neither of you should have to deal with any of this."

"Asher, none of this is your fault. You saved my life."

"Yes, and the only reason your life was in danger was because the Valkir was looking for me."

"You can't blame yourself for existing, son."

Asher let out a harsh laugh. "The King does."

Henry was quiet for a moment. "I didn't know there were any magic-users left."

Asher shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. As far as I know, it's just me."

"How have you survived? You were born right around the time the King began that massacre, were you not?"

Asher wrung his hands, opened his mouth, closed it again, stared at his feet. "That's a long story."

"My apologies. I should've realized that's a delicate topic."

". . . What are we going to do now?" Asher asked, desperate to change the subject.

"At the moment, I'm mostly concerned about getting away from that Valkir. Either he or his comrades are sure to be following us."

Asher ran a hand through his hair. "I might be able to find out if they are."

"Oh?"

Asher grasped the magic and concentrated on the Valkir. Henry started and swore loudly; he opened his eyes and saw that the translucent figure of a man had appeared before them, walking through an invisible environment. The Valkir, alive and well, paused and looked about, his brow furrowed in confusion. Then, somehow, his eyes met Asher's.