CHAPTER SEVEN

It took time to clear up the confusion as to exactly why we were the victims while surrounded by a bunch of half-dead bandits. The Avalons took the fact that they could heal Mallow as evidence enough that she had been acting in self-defense. They questioned me about whether having a Moon Giant in tow was a wise idea. I had heard this line of questioning from Avalons repeatedly over the years, so I decided to change the topic by playing the scared civilian.

"Are you sure they won't come back?" I asked, clasping my hands together in front of me in worry. I pretended to be shaking with fear, but really, I was fatigued. I didn't have to act much at all, the entire encounter having sincerely frayed my nerves raw. Sir Halley softened in the face of my pitiful state.

"Positively. Sir Stricklen has probably killed their leader. We plan on rounding up whatever's left of the ones your Giant kicked into the trees," he said, taking off his helmet. Next to me sat Mallow, physically restored but with the memory of the pain of the attack still shadowing her expression. She was jumpy; flinching when Mendenhall marched up to her and stared her in the face.

"It's odd. I thought my healing magic wouldn't work on Moon Giants because they're cannibals," she said, her words confident.

"She's never eaten a human, ever," I said.

"Moon Giants don't eat other Moon Giants, so I wouldn't be a cannibal even if I had," Mallow snipped.

Uncomfortable silence ensued. I was shocked. Mallow never said things like that. She was ashamed of how the others of her species acted. When she was younger I used to have to stay up holding her while she cried in apology for the crimes of the Moon Giants, for their victims.

I was so frustrated and angry at the Avalons for letting her bleed out that I didn't say anything to break the tension. I enjoyed the way that Mendenhall's eyes grew wide, and Halley was unsure of how to righteously respond to such a vaguely threatening statement. Mendenhall averted her eyes, scuffed the dirt with one toe of her shiny boot. She worked up her resolve and jerked her head up at Mallow.

"I am deeply embarrassed for accidentally shooting you." She bowed her head ever-so-slightly. "I apologize for the harm that befell you due to my mistake." She didn't sound sorry. She sounded angry, but considering the way Avalons usually eyed me and Mallow whenever we came into range, it was the best we could hope for.

The bottom of Mallow's eyelid twitched. She was trying to hide how much she wanted to punch the lady Avalon in the face.

"It's all right," Mallow rumbled. "I know I'm scary."

"Well, in Sir Mendenhall's defense..." Halley said, gesturing to Mendenhall. "A Giant was rampaging after a man. We didn't intend to hurt, it just..."

Mallow's hand fell to her stomach and wiped at the blood that was now beginning to dry there. It came off glinting like flecks of metal, lighter than air as it broke away. The color drained from Mendenhall's face. She was humbled as she finally realized what she had done.

And so it began: a ten minute apology. She asked for forgiveness, explained herself and offered to help Mallow endlessly. At the end of it Mendenhall snapped her fingers and chanted a small couplet. Flowers burst forward from nothing, their sweet scent swimming through the air, before she threw them and they dissipated. Her powers had returned.

Grinning, she showed a few small spells to Halley. Even though I had been the one to warn of forever losing her power, I'd never seen it happen before. I always wondered how that whole 'losing powers from being immoral' thing worked. I assumed that it wasn't an eternal loss each time an Avalon goofed and broke their code, otherwise there wouldn't be any Avalons, but I hadn't realized it was so forgiving.

"That's sort of soon, isn't it?" I asked. "I mean, she almost died because of you." Sure, the apologies had been so eager that even I would have a hard time topping some of them, but at the end of it all, she had merely talked. She had done nothing to help Mallow or make up for the pain she had caused.

"That's right, actually." Sir Halley said. "I once took off someone's leg who ended up being innocent. I fixed it much quicker than you did your arrows, but I had to get someone else to help and still had no powers for a week afterward."

"As I recall..." Mendenhall said drearily, all friendliness gone now that she was now longer at risk. "This Giant was already wounded when I fired. I didn't intend to kill her, just incapacitate her. And..." She read the carriage's outside, I'd painted it myself and it said 'Potent, Powerful, and Proven Potions'. Her eyes narrowed, and a smile slithered from the corner of her lips "Perhaps you are guilty after all, just not of what we thought."

"What does that mean?" Mallow asked, outraged once again. Sir Halley and Sir Mendenhall got close to my carriage. I followed them. I couldn't afford to lose my entire stock to a nosy Avalon again, even if it was all made out of local herbs, alcohol, and spices with no magic at all. Bottles were expensive!

"You stay out of there!" I barked and reached for Halley. How could they do this to me after causing us so much trouble already? I cursed myself for ever getting their attention.

"Since my friend recovered so quickly, you two must be criminals..." Halley brushed my hand off his gleaming elbow and opened the back curtain. Whatever he expected to find, it was not there from the way his expression fell. I barely managed to keep smug triumph off of my face.

I wore a mask of innocent chagrin instead.

"Invading my privacy? I suppose nearly murdering my body guard wasn't enough fun for one day?"

He ignored my snippy comment, eyes scanning the sides of the carriage. Broken bits of glass strewn across the pillows glittered in the sunlight. The rest of my bottles were still sitting on their shelves.

"That's an awful lot of potions," Halley said. I was surprised at how the metal that made up the centerpiece of his armor twisted with him. It wasn't normal steel. "You're a sorcerer? But then, why run?"

I shook my head, as I always did when someone accused me of being a sorcerer.

"Oh no! Humble me? A sorcerer? Never! I am a sorcerer's Assistant. I take his wares and sell them on the marketplace." I explained, stating my official cover story.

"Which sorcerer?" Mendenhall chimed in as she leaned and surveyed the dark recesses of the carriage.

"Fushon of Merode," I said. I always used good old fictional Fushon. Merode sounded similar to several other cities so people often got it mangled in their memories. Assuming the fault was theirs and not mine, they never found him. "You probably never heard of him. He prefers a life of solitariness and profit."

"I see... he must be pretty lowly to be completely unknown. What is he, a Shician of some tiny little village?" Mendenhall asked. The mystery of what I had been doing and who I may be was driving her nuts. Avalons, even if they were stupid icicles most of the time, were rarely so hostile. I was thinking of a way to get out of this when I noticed Halley's eyes had gone wide.

"Whether Enchanted One Fushon is a Wishid who wields power only over a dozen or the Sublime Cosmotic Incanteror who rules over us all himself, a sorcerer is a sorcerer, Sir Medenhall." Halley's hands touched Medenhall's elbow, getting her attention with the clink of the armor. She stood up, and her irritation melted into embarrassment.

"You're right," she said. "But, there's something about him—"

"He may be lying—" Halley said.

"I assure you—" I tried to but in, but their glinting backs were to me. They spoke in quiet voices between themselves.

"-but what if he's not?" Halley finished. "We don't want any problems. If his Master is truly a sorcerer, he might have the connections to get our inscriptions blighted out of spite."

Mendenhall exhaled.

"I guess they're not bloodthirsty murderers, or else I wouldn't be able to heal them at all.".

"That's right," Halley said. "We'd be best off letting them get along. If he causes problems, then one of our comrades will take care of it. We've done enough."

Sir Stricklen was in the distance, trotting back from the woods. He gave a wave and a whoop of triumph, although he was still too far to speak with. Mendenhall signaled him back, then forcing herself to civility once more, regarded me.

"Well, if you're all right, we better let you get on your way, considering you're not a criminal after all." With that Mendenhall began to pointedly ignore me, moving over to the bleeding tree. She cast a spell. A limp arm lowered below the tree line. Mallow stared, fixated. I reached up and grabbed her hand, my fragile, tiny fingers tugging on hers. She squeezed my hand back, causing it to ache.

With that, Mallow followed me to the side of the carriage. We geared up the horses, and rode on.

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