I had hoped sleep would hold me longer than it did.  When I awoke, Andreas was sitting next to me, leaning against a separate trunk of the same tree, eyes closed in admirably peaceful slumber. Our bodies almost touched, and – as much as I did not want to admit it even to myself, that situation sent waves of heat into my cheeks. Suddenly all I could think of was knowing more about him; his discovery of magic; why everyone called him a monster; and, still, why he saved me.

He had given me a wholly unsatisfactory answer to that last query. Why would he feel guilty if the king executed me? I didn’t yet see the sense in it. Hundreds of innocents had been killed just for displaying the slightest signs of magic since his escapades at the king’s palace, and not before had he done anything to help them. So why here, now? Luck? Whim? None of that held up to scrutiny. There had to be another reason why he chose, among everyone, to save me.

What kind of savior do you need, Lana?  That thought appeared so immediately, and fully formed, in my consciousness that it almost startled me, even in my restless state; but I knew right away what it meant. My father recoiling in horror from the sight of my eyes; my mother walking away from my dungeon cell. Andreas resting peacefully under the tree.  Everyone had walked away from me… except this man. I told myself it was natural to grasp at any sign of caring in a world gone this cold, even if it was with someone with the reputation of Andreas.  Against my better judgment, I longed for him to want me right now, to see something special in me that he wanted to nurture and care for. Even… no, not love.  But I didn’t know what else to call it. So, love.

I focused on Andreas again.  “There is still so little of this world I know,” I said quietly to myself.  And right now, my whole world was this moment and this man, about whom there was so much still to discover… good, and bad.

He stirred, perhaps responding to my voice, and I quickly averted my eyes. “How long have you been awake?” he asked.  I turned back to him. His eyes were still closed.

“I… uhm… didn’t sleep,” I replied, ducking my head away, embarrassed.

His eyes opened slowly and he regarded me with a look I couldn’t decipher.  There might have been concern there, but the look was gone before I could analyze it. “We’ll be walking a lot today; you should have gotten some rest.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” I fiddled with a lock of my hair and stared at the grass.

“Sleep is something you cannot take for granted. You need energy. That’s what magic is, you know, manifested energy.” His gaze drifted up to the sky. “Magic users, sorcerers, whatever you prefer to call us; we have the unique ability to manipulate the fields of energy that surround us all the time. It’s like we are on a different frequency. Part of the reason the king is so afraid of us is because this ability that comes naturally to some, can be taught. You and I never stood a chance. We were born with it, but some people actually do have to learn it. But, I’m straying from my point. You need to rest. Using magic will drain you if you don’t recharge. That’s why you were so weak when I found you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I had wanted to know why we had magic; but I had no way to know how much of what he was saying was true and how much was just a theory he concocted. I noticed, however, that a good feeling settled in me the moment I found out he considered me a kindred spirit.

“How do you know all of this?” I finally asked when it became clear that he wasn’t going to add anything else.

He smirked, the only kind of smile I had seen from him. Perhaps it was the only one he knew how to do. “It’s what I was taught from a young age. I believe I was luckier than you when it came to discovering my gift.”

My attention suddenly got sharper. Was he going to reveal some of the answers I sought?

“How can this be a gift?” I asked, and right away wanted to hit myself. He had offered me a tiny glimpse into his past and all I could ask was why he considered magic a gift. I cursed myself for my immature directness. The connection between my brain and mouth must have been temporarily severed.

“Because it is. Sure, we may be persecuted for it, but those who get caught are either inexperienced or stupid. The king and anyone else who doesn’t have magic are jealous because we can do things they can only dream of. Once you know how to control it, they won’t be able to catch you.” His tone took on an almost rhapsodic quality. He seemed so sure about himself. I had recently wished for uncertainty, but I caught myself envying his confidence and power.

“Is that how you escaped from the palace?”

He started laughing, and, for the first time, it was without any trace the smirk I had seen in all his other smiles.  There was no self-consciousness or superiority in it at all, just genuine joy and amusement… and I found that very… appealing.

“They didn’t tell you?” he asked, his voice laced with humor, the darkness gone temporarily.

I shook my head. “All they told us is that you escaped somehow after… after abusing Princess Elisa.”

His humor didn’t darken the way I thought it would. “Of course that’s all they would tell you. They want magic to seem bad. I didn’t escape,” he said with a laugh.

I could hardly hide my incredulity, and he noticed.

“I was never captured to start with, little witch.”

“How is that possible? They had you at the palace…?”

“They only had me captured because I wanted to get into the palace and have some fun doing so. Lana, there are no limits to what magic can do when you know how to use it. They do not call me one of the greatest dark sorcerers of all time for no reason. I got away by using magic, obviously.” His amusement hadn’t subsided.

I looked away again, embarrassed that I hadn’t thought of that. Of course the king would keep that out of his report. If people knew Andreas had escaped by using magic, the concept of magic suddenly becomes more appealing, and scary. It meant that the king’s effort against the really powerful sorcerers were futile at best.

“Why did you want to go there then?” I asked, although I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.

Andreas took my face in his hand and turned it, firmly but gently, to his, a dark smirk lighting up his features. “You are hoping that I’m not as bad as they say I am, aren’t you?”

 I shrugged my face out of his hand and turned away again. He was right, but I didn’t want him to know that.

“No, I’m just curious about what really happened.” It was a partial truth, which was all I was willing to give him at the time.

He relaxed against the tree. “I had an agenda, and I completed it.”

I couldn’t hide my annoyance.  “Could you be more vague? I think parts of your explanation are still too specific.” I let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Oh, so she does bite,” he commented.

“She bites when she has to.”

“No one’s forcing you, love.”

I bit down my tongue, refusing to partake in this conversation any further. No one had ever called me “love” before, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it now. My thoughts were racing too fast for logic to keep up. Silence descended upon us as he got to his feet.

“We should get going,” he said, extending his hand to me in a similar way he had done the previous morning. I took his hand with only a little hesitance, and he pulled me to my feet, leading me away. That silence that hung between us felt thick and awkward, like a burden as we walked. I was too aware of myself and what I was doing and I was praying for a distraction – any distraction. I started counting the number of trees we passed.

“My agenda was to gain an audience with the princess, but, before that, I wanted to meet the king and toy with him,” Andreas said out of the blue after we had passed the fifty-seventh tree.

My eyes found his but I couldn’t read them. There was a barrier there, shielding his emotions from me and the rest of the world.

“I let the guards capture me,” he continued, “and the smug looks on their faces amused me. They thought they were going to get so much praise for finally catching the infamous Andreas Scott Grigoli, when they didn’t really catch me to start with. I knew the only way to get an effective audience with the king was to get myself captured. I wanted to meet him, to know who was behind the “witch hunt”.  It turns out he was a total ass, so I wanted to irritate him further, while simultaneously getting what I had gone for in the first place. I went to his daughter’s room and I had her cornered,” he paused and seemed to judge my response. I felt horrified; I could only imagine what I looked like to him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what he did to the princess, but I felt as if I needed to. He looked amused by my reaction.

“She was the main reason I entered the palace; I knew I could bargain with her. Princess Elisa is one of the most selfish people in this kingdom, and she just happens to be next in line for the throne. I doubt the king will live much longer; not even arrogant kings live forever. I wanted to make a deal with the princess that gave me some leverage when she becomes queen. She gets to say that I savagely abused her, and in turn I don’t lay a finger on her and she owes me a favor that I may collect whenever I should feel like it. I hope that eases your curiosity.”

I said nothing. It did not, in fact, ease my curiosity one bit; it only strengthened it. He was the most confusing man I had ever met. First with vague answers, and then suddenly, out of nowhere, what seemed like complete candor. I didn’t know what to think about him anymore… except that, if what he said was true it might mean he was not such a terrible monster, after all.

“I know what you are thinking, little witch, and you are wrong,” he remarked, his tone light.

“It’s Lana, not little witch,” I replied sharply, feeling the need to once again correct him.

He grinned. “I like little witch better. It suits you.”

I glared at him.

“One good deed does not a good man make. You would be wise to remember that, little witch.” His tone had darkened considerably and chills spread over my body.

“I would never think of you as good,” I deadpanned. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“No. It’s not about wanting to hear anything,” his voice dropped considerably. “You would just be wise to be careful. Everyone around me gets hurt.”

I tried to ignore his warning. “If you are so concerned about my well-being, why take me with you at all?” I tried to sound confident, but my voice was shaking.

He shrugged, but didn’t reply.

“Why did you choose to be the ‘bad guy’?” I asked. It was the question that had been bothering me since last night when he appeared so kind and caring.

His whole stance darkened, his black cape whipping behind him from a sudden gust of wind that appeared too suddenly to be natural. “It’s not a choice. It’s who I am,” he said, his voice husky and more dangerous than it had been.

I tried not to let his reaction shake me. “No, it is a choice. People can be good or bad, but they get to decide. Circumstances affect their choices, yes, but ultimately the choice is theirs.”

He chuckled darkly. “You are naïve, and still so innocent to the ways of the world. Circumstances determine what kind of person you are. We don’t have a choice. Tell me, if I told you that you had a choice between being good and evil, and that choosing evil is the only way you would survive, would you be able to become evil?”

“That is not a logical argument. No one can choose in the heat of the moment.”

“You only say that because you know you are wrong. You ooze of goodness, of light, there is no situation in which you’d be able to choose darkness to even save your own life. You cannot be evil because it’s not who you are. You would rather die than be evil. But, take away choice, and then circumstances determine what you become. Sometimes things get so bad that it leaves a permanent mark on you, a mark that prohibits you from being good. It makes you want to cause the same kind of pain to other people that has been inflicted upon you.”

“So you are saying then that something terrible happened to you that left you with no choice?” I asked, but it came out sounding like an accusation. I was getting agitated in spite of myself.

“Yes.” He dropped that word with such a note of finality that, in any circumstances but these, I would have heeded his warning to let it go.

“What happened?”

“Nothing you have to worry about, little witch.”

His tone was suddenly light, and I almost asked more… but the look on his face silenced me.  His eyes were filling with malevolence that belied his manner.  They were eyes of a man not to be pushed, a man who had created that unnatural gust of wind out of sheer frustration just a few moments ago.

  I could kill you with a thought, little girl.  I started.  I had no idea whether that was actually his voice in my head, or just my runaway imagination.  But it was a risk I could not afford to take right now.  For better or worse, I had tied my life to this man.  I could not go pulling on that slender thread, lest it unravel, or break.  I looked away.

We walked in silence for a while, and some of the previous darkness lifted. I was left with more questions than ever and he didn’t seem willing to give me the answers I longed for.  His bitter eyes kept haunting me every time I felt the need to speak, but, after a short time, the silence grew too oppressive, and I had to try.

“Can I ask you one last question?”

“I sincerely doubt it will be the last question you ask of me, but go ahead. I do not promise I will answer.”

I didn’t look at him as I spoke. “Have you ever let anyone in?”

He abruptly stopped walking. I turned and faced him. His eyes were confused, questioning.  “Why would you ask me that?”

My eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t think it such as strange question. You just seem so careful with everything you tell me, and you refuse to talk about anything that may let me know what you are really like. I was just wondering if you are this way with everyone or just with me.”

He closed the distance between us and started backing me into a tree. He placed his arms on it, keeping me trapped between them. His body was touching mine, but he didn’t seem to notice. “You asked too many questions. You wonder way too much about me for your own good. Do not make the mistake of thinking just because I saved you that suddenly I care about you or your feelings. I have been close to people, and just because I don’t offer up information freely, does not mean that no one knows me. It just means that at the moment I have no desire for you to know me. Understand?”

I couldn’t breathe, overwhelmed by emotions jumping all over the place… but fear most of all. The last time someone had me in a grip similar to this he had been forcing himself on me. The memory was sharp in my mind and I had no doubt that Andreas could do worse. My heart beat faster than I thought it could.

He made no move to release me; instead he seemed to focus all his attention on my eyes. His midnight gaze narrowed into slits as he started to back away slowly. “What color are your eyes?” he asked slowly, cautiously.

“Brown,” I answered automatically, still on edge. He was no longer touching me, but the fear he induced still lingered.

“That was what I thought. They aren’t brown right now.”

My knees gave out. I closed my eyes and shook my head as I landed sitting up against the tree. “This can’t be happening, not right now,” I said softly.

I felt his hand on my shoulder and opened my eyes to see him kneeling next to me. “Impossible,” he stated, his eyes full of wonder.

He was questioning now, with more genuine interest in me than I had yet seen from him. His tone was grave and somber. “This has happened to you before? Your eyes changing to a very dull blue?”

I shook my head. “Not dull. The last time it happened my eyes were a brilliant blue.”

“The night your powers showed themselves.”

He hadn’t phrased it as a question, but I answered anyway. “Yes.”

“Which means you were just about to do something,” he said, his voice going dark again. “What were you feeling just now?” he asked in a tone so low that it made my skin crawl.

“The same thing I had felt that night… anxiety… fear…,” I replied, my voice getting smaller as I spoke.

He gently took both my hands and pulled me to my feet again. “Do you have any idea what it means when your eyes change color?”

I shook my head, no longer trusting my words.

“It means the power you possess may be far greater than you can even imagine.”