I tear my hand from his and shuffle back, groping the ground to aid in my retreat. When my back presses against a tree, I push up with my heels until on my feet.

His eyes narrow and he retracts his hand. "Sorry, if I scared you. You looked like you were in some kind of trouble."

Looked? I flit a quick glance at our surroundings. The sprites are gone.

"So were you?" he asks, his thumbs now tucked into his front pockets. Tension marks his body and I have little doubt that he would've helped had I been in trouble. He looks like a man ready for a fight, one who never loses. His jacket is back on so I can't see his tattoos, to see what coven he belongs to.

His eyebrows arch and I realize I haven't answered his question. Without knowing what coven he's from, I can't be sure if he's a magician or simply a human covered in tattoos that look like a magicians. To reveal the secret of magic to an ordinary human is as bad, if not worse, than cavorting with the enemy.

"I... uh... well, did you see me being attacked?"

His brows lower. "No, I didn't, but you were screaming and—"

"And nothing, I fell. That was all." I brush away the leaves hooked onto my sweater and hair. "I was passing through when I got tangled in the thickets and fell. That's it. No trouble."

His slow nod speaks of disbelief. "And that's why you screamed and scratched the air like something was attacking you?"

"Well, it's a forest." I motion around me with the whirl of a finger. "There are spiders. I thought one got caught in my hair so I— wait, why am I explaining this to you, anyway? I'm fine. I fell, but I'm fine, and I appreciate your concern, but I should go."

"No one's stopping you." He steps aside for me to pass, yet he doesn't leave. Neither do I. I have to, but the sprites...

I dart a glance all around us. They're still out there, watching. I can't see them, but can feel their little eyes on me. The lingering ache of their burn tingles on my skin.

After an entirely too long awkward moment, he chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. "Would you like me to walk with you? You know, just in case any spiders happen to jump out from the bushes. I hear they do that sometimes."

Under normal circumstances, I'd call him out for that, but for whatever reason, the sprites didn't attack him. If I want to get out of the forest alive, I need him. "That would be great, thanks..."

"Roane," he says, extending a hand to me. Tattoos paint his hands, brandished with a knuckle duster and a throwing star. He must really have a thing for weapons.

"Thank you, Roane." I slip my hand into his. "I'm—"

My breath is caught. Thoughts of ice and darkness cross my mind and steal my words. The vision unfurls before my eyes like white vapor and wraps itself around me. I'm lost in it, frozen, watching Roane walk down a snowy trail toward a cave at the foot of a mountain. The blackness within the cavern pools and pulses as if alive and waiting. The image of him shifts right before my eyes, morphs into the Great Mistress like a hologram. She stands before the cave entrance. Her blond hair and white robes billow, sparkling in contrast to the deep blackness past her.

The image of her holds for less than a second, and then shifts back to Roane. In the smokiness of my mind, I know that wherever the Great Mistress has gone, Roane is going to follow. But whatever this darkness is, he can't go in there. The thought of him doing so clutches my chest and makes me want to cry.

I blink and the vision is gone, leaving me to stare at Roane's brown eyes again. I shake my head and release his hand. "Sorry, I'm Aramina."

He nods, a line settled over his brow. I must look crazy, but this is beyond anything I've ever experienced. Clairvoyance has never been my strong suit. I still have little sparks here and there, but my vision with Roane just now was a lightning strike.

I walk ahead, leading the way. I need to talk to Aunt Sabana. The thing about visions is that sometimes they're literal, other times abstract. This was both. What the darkness and ice means is abstract, but one thing isn't. Something happened to the Great Mistress, something dark, and Roane is headed toward the same danger. But what that danger is is anyone's guess. I could ask him, but I don't even know if he's a magician yet.

The spells along the boundary lines not only keep ordinaries out. They also encourage any ordinaries to leave right away, in case they do stumble into our town by mistake. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave back at the meadow.

Still, I need to be sure.

There's so much I want to know, about his tattoos, about what he was doing in the middle of the woods, why he cried, and why the Sprites fear him. I look to him; half hoping the vision will return. All I see is him—pale skin, fine features, brown eyes and black hair. He towers about a head above me, but not in a threatening way. It's actually calming being around him. His aura is familiar, the way it feels when coming across a Coven member. He walks with a confident ease, as if one with the forest. Magicians have this ability, to see the forest through other eyes, to feel it in their soul. I haven't had the pleasure. Never will.

In spite of this, I tense. Visions only come to their owners, to those who are meant to do something with them. But how can I possibly keep Roane from whatever this darkness is when I don't even know who he is?

I clear my throat. "So what were you doing back there, in the meadow?"

"What were you doing lurking, watching me through the bushes?"

I gasp. "I was not lurking. I was—"

"Spiders, I know," he says, and for the first time, he grins. It's a nice smile that makes his face less somber and severe. "But in case you didn't know, sprites are harmless."

I stop, cold, whip around to face him. "You mean you saw them?"

He shakes his head with a light laugh and keeps walking.

I catch up. "Why didn't you say so earlier? And why didn't they attack you? Are you heading for Crossing? What Coven are you with?" I stop sharply again and jerk back. Caught by the image of him standing in the sun, so vulnerable and sad, I didn't once stop to consider that he might be something else.

A shiver creeps down my spine. "Are you a warlock?"

He pauses, regards me from under a furrowed brow. "Do you interrogate everyone this way?"

I take an step back and another, until my butt bumps against the damp bark of a tree. "You didn't answer my question."

His shoulders slump with a sigh, a white cloud gathered at his mouth that quickly vanishes. "If I were a Warlock, you wouldn't be alive right now. Besides, I don't sense much magic from you. You wouldn't quench my thirst if I was one, no offense."

Heat flushes my cheeks. "Right, none taken..."

I linger still.

"Look, I'm not part of any coven. I've had different teachers, but I've never belonged." He shrugs. "That answer your question?"

A Deserter. I've heard of his type. They never Crossed and are nomadic. Sometimes they band together, traveling like gypsies between boundary towns, but Roane seems like the lonesome type. I nod and resume our walk. There's still the matter about the sun and the crying, but truthfully, it's none of my business. He helped me and seems to be keeping the Sprites at bay. The least I can do is keep my mouth shut and let him escort me, grateful.

We make it to the opening of the woods with no further trouble. He stops shy of the sidewalk. "I should get back. I left my stuff behind."

We're a few steps from the forest entrance, and along the way I recovered my jacket and sack, so I don't question it. The sprites won't chase me out of the forest bounds. That would start a war. "Of course, thanks for walking me."

He inclines his head. "Nice meeting you. Watch out for those spiders," he says with a smile, then turns back to the woods.

I clutch my sleeves like a lifeline. He seems fit and capable enough to take care of himself, but watching him walk toward the tunneled trees grates at my insides and memory of the vision jerks my steps forward. "Roane, wait!"

He turns and I jog the few steps to him. "Look, I know you said you were passing through, but if you need a place to stay, there's a Bed and Breakfast just down this road." I point to Stanton Road opposite us. "Just so you don't have to stay outside... in the dark and cold."

He meets my eyes at those words, and I'm reminded of shutters in a storm. His look before was open and unguarded, but my words were a gust of wind that snapped them shut. They were simple words that to anyone wouldn't raise any bells, but he looks down, and my suspicions are confirmed. He's in some kind of trouble.

"And I work at the Apothecary shop, in case you need anything. It's the only one in town, so you can't miss it."

He nods slowly. "I'll remember that."

He steps back. I do the same. Two more steps and we turn to our respective destinations. My heart pounds, but I push my steps forward. There's nothing else I can do. I told him where I'd be. I left the door open. If it's meant to be and I'm meant to help him, he'll walk through it.

Thank you for reading! Please vote and comment if you enjoyed the chapter, and be sure to add it to your libraries! Look for an update next Friday :)