The next morning Micah woke me up at the crack of dawn.

"Alexis? Alexis, wake up. We need to get ready to go," he said.

I let out a groan of frustration, and opened one eye to see that it was still pitch-black outside.

"What time is it?" I croaked.

"Just before five."

"It's too early!" I complained, pulling a pillow over my head. It had been the first time I had slept in a real bed for days. I wasn't ready to give that up and get back to roughing it on the road.

"The earlier we leave, the sooner we'll get to Kapanathy," Micah said, yanking the blanket off of me. I cursed at him and curled up as the cold air hit me. "I'll leave you alone to get dressed, but we need to leave in ten minutes," Micah said, walking into the hallway and closing the door behind him.

I unwillingly dragged myself out of bed, knowing that there was no point in arguing with this stubborn lunatic. I emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, my backpack placed securely on my shoulders as I tried to stifle a yawn.

"Ready?" he asked, grabbing his duffel bag.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I mumbled.

We were about to walk out the front door when Fletcher entered the room, Otis trailing joyfully behind him. Fletcher was dressed in faded blue jeans and a dark gray overcoat. He wore a black fedora, and was carrying several army green satchels.

"Not leaving without us, I hope," he said with a large smile.

An awkward silence filled the air. Micah cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, Fletcher, but you can't come with us. It's too dangerous," Micah said, shaking his head.

"I have to agree with Micah," I said.

Fletcher had been kind enough to take in the refugees, to let us eat his food and stay the night, but we couldn't ask him to further risk his life.

Fletcher smiled. "I know I don't look like much, but I've taken on my fair share of Malin."

Micah and I looked at one another, still unsure.

Fletcher's face tightened at our words and his eyes hardened with resolve. "I appreciate what you are doing, but stop. I'm a grown man, and I make my own decisions. Besides, I have thirty years of experience over the two of you. We all know it would be in your best interest for me to tag along."

I glanced at Micah, who looked torn. "It would definitely help to have your knowledge. But, Fletcher, you can't even step foot in Tueri. You were banned. What are you going to do once we get there?"

"Maybe the Council will reconsider once we get there," I suggested.

Micah scoffed. "The protectors don't see things that way. All they see is that Brianne turned to the dark side, and died as a result. In their minds, it's Fletcher's fault because he was supposed to guide and protect her."

"That's ridiculous. He had no control over her emotions. We'll just have to make them understand," I said, crossing my arms in defiance. Micah rolled his eyes at the futility of my words.

"Fine, Fletcher, you can join us," he said. "But I won't be able to help you much out there. You know the protector's code." Micah glanced at me wearily through his peripherals.

Fletcher took a step forward and placed a hand on Micah's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Yes, I know the code. And if it comes down to protecting me or her, I would always want it to be her, even if you hadn't taken the vow. We both know how important she is, Micah," he said, meeting my gaze.

I felt my face redden. I shifted uncomfortably at the way they were talking about me like I wasn't in the room.

Fletcher clapped his hands together and gave a large grin, the excitement in his eyes rekindled. He grabbed his satchel and opened the front door, walking out into the crisp August morning.

"I figured we could take my truck," Fletcher suggested. "The truck has a camper shell. You two can ride in the back where you'll be out of sight, and we'll stay off of the main roads. It would get us there a lot faster."

"Well, it sure beats the hell out of walking," Micah said, thoughtfully. "Okay, we'll try it. But if at any point we seem too exposed, we immediately find a different route."

"Deal," Fletcher said.

He unlocked the old black Chevy. Micah and I climbed into the truck bed, Otis leaping in joyously behind us. Fletcher shut the camper shell door, and climbed into the front seat. I could see him through a small window between the truck bed and cab.

The truck engine roared to life and we pulled out of the driveway, dust and gravel flying behind us as we continued our journey to Kapanathy.

The day wore on as we drove, stopping every few hours to allow Fletcher to stretch his legs. Each time we took a break, Micah paced nervously, muttering to himself about exposure, but Fletcher and I ignored him.

While we were on the road, we filled the long hours of travel by stuffing my head with as much magical knowledge as possible. It would have been much easier if I were able to actually practice any of the spells, but the last thing we wanted was the Malin tracking us. So I was resigned to committing the words to memory.

Fletcher and Micah had been taking turns quizzing, as though I could have possibly retained the information that quickly. Of course, I failed miserably.

They were constantly reminding me how important it was that I learn magic, that it could be the difference between life and death for everyone in Kapanathy. The pressure didn't help.

All I wanted to do was take a nap, but every time I closed my eyes, someone was there to remind me of my newfound "destiny". Micah and Fletcher were becoming like pesky flies who wouldn't stop buzzing in my ear.

"Okay Lexi, what words would you use if you were trying to grow a plant?" Fletcher asked.

I racked my brain, searching for the right word combination. "Umm, flos incendio?" I answered hesitantly.

"Congratulations, Alexis. You just set the plant on fire," Micah said condescendingly.

I let out a grunt of frustration. That was the tenth question in a row that I'd gotten wrong. I placed my head in my hands in exasperation, as Otis gives me a consoling lick.

"I'm never going to get this," I mumbled through my fingers.

"Well, you don't really have a choice. You just need to give it more effort," Micah said.

"What a brilliant idea, Micah. Why didn't I think of that myself?" I asked sarcastically.

"You're doing a wonderful job, Lexi. You did get half of the incantation right, after all, so that's progress," Fletcher said, beaming at me in the rearview mirror. I gave him a half-hearted smile.

After being on the road for several hours, we decided to call it a night. Fletcher pulled the truck into a cluster of trees, and climbed into the truck bed. He dug around in his duffel bag for a few minutes, before handing us each some food. We are in silence, each too fatigued to do anything other than fill our hollow stomachs.

"I'll take watch. You two go on to sleep," Micah said. Fletcher and I tried to protest, but Micah held up a hand to rebuke us.

"Fletcher, you've been driving all day. I know you have to be tired. And, Alexis, no offense, but if someone were to attack us, I'm not sure you'd be a match for them magically, or physically for that matter," he said, eyeing me up and down.

I almost felt the need to pull my blanket a little tighter to hide my scrawny muscles.

I was too tired to argue with either of them. I slouched down into the cab and laid my head against the truck's wall. Otis sprawled out across my lap, and I gave him a couple of loving pats before falling fast asleep.

My brain leapt from one place to another as the various magical words and incantations I'd learned that day filled my mind. Hour after hour, as I slept, the words swam before my eyes. When I finally woke up, I felt just as exhausted as when I fell asleep, and my head ached.

I saw Fletcher and Otis across the truck bed, still sound asleep. Micah was sitting up in the same position he'd been in when I went to sleep. He hadn't  woken Fletcher up for their midnight switch.

Even without rest, he seemed surprisingly alert, his eyes scanning the tree line outside the truck until they eventually locked on mine.

"Morning," he said.

"Good morning," I murmured with a yawn.

"You were talking in your sleep. I think you were trying to practice magic. Not well, I might add," he laughed.

"How is that funny?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. My fatigue and Micah's taunting was making me crabby already.

"Some of the combinations you were using were ridiculous. I think at one point you were trying to conjure a flower, but you used it in conjunction with the word for summoning snow. It wasn't even close," he chuckled. "I can't believe the fate of our world lies in the hands of someone who can't even remember the most basic spells. I mean, that's something normal witches learn as young children."

The more Micah laughed, the more it angered me. How could I be held responsible for things I said while unconscious? I was the first to confess that I wasn't very good at magic so far, but I hadn't really had a chance to practice it yet. Why couldn't he cut me some slack?

Micah wanted me to grow some flowers? Well, I would grow him a flower, dammit.

In my left arm, a tingling sensation began moving down to the tips of my fingers, spreading throughout my hand. I opened my fist, palm facing upward, and gasped as a small yellow daisy appeared, growing slowly until it is the size of my palm.

I did it! I actually did it! I thought, amazed.

An audible gasp of surprise escaped my lips. Micah followed my gaze to where a perfect yellow flower sat in my hand. His playful smile faded into a hard line. His eyes bulged, and he turned deathly white.

"What did you just do?" he asked in a grave whisper.

Before I could analyze Micah's reaction, he was on his feet yelling and at Fletcher, who woke with a start. It took Fletcher only a moment of scrutinizing the situation to understand what had happened. He rushed out of the truck bed and into the cab, leaving the tailgate open in his haste.

The old Chevy roared to life, and let out an angry groan as Fletcher stepped on the gas, throwing me, Micah, and Otis around the truck like ping pong balls. He swerved left and right, avoiding trees at an alarmingly fast pace, as the vehicle's occupant's slid from side to side across the truck bed.

"What's happening?" I bellowed over the engine.

"You just did magic, that's what happened!" Micah yelled back, his eyes darting out each window as he scanned our surroundings. "The Malin will have sensed it. We told you not to do magic while we're in this world."

My previously elated heart dropped into my stomach. What did I just do?

"But it was just a little flower. They couldn't have sensed that... could they?"

As if answering my question, a loud pop resonated from behind us. Otis barked loudly as a young man surfaced out of thin air. He took a running-go and grasped the truck's tailgate, trying to hoist himself inside.

Without hesitation, Micah ran to the end of the truck, using the roof for support as Fletcher continued to swerve left and right. Micah hoisted himself up and brought his legs into the air, kicking the man in the face and breaking his nose.

In the man's pain, he forgot his endeavor and let go of the truck, rolling away from us, and leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

"Drive faster, Fletcher!" Micah called frantically, as three more Malin materialized.

Fletcher made a sharp turn. I was unprepared, and the sudden movement caused me to lose my grip. I yelled out as I was thrown to the edge of the tailgate and out of the truck. Micah caught my arm at the last minute.

"Hang on!" he called, trying to pull me up.

I began to panic as I felt my legs dragging, my knees scraping against the ground. My right leg hit a large rock with so much force, that it caused me to lose my breath. I let out a scream when I heard a sickening crunch, and felt tearing in my knee.

Micah's face contorted with effort. He let out a groan as he pulled me back into the safety of the truck. No sooner had I gotten inside, the two Malin began attacking the truck with firebombs.

They missed, but one of the firebombs hit the truck's tire, sending the vehicle spinning. Fletcher tried to guide us through the obstacles of the forest, but the truck was so out of control, we crashed headfirst into a tree.

I laid on my side, baffled, having difficulty comprehending what happened. Micah, on the other hand, didn't hesitate to jump out of the truck and run toward the soldiers.

He punched one of them in the face with all the force he could muster, leaving the soldier lying unconscious on the ground. The other two Malin cornered Micah from either side, smiling ruefully. They opened their hands, and each of them was holding a firebomb in their palm.

As if through some unspoken agreement, the Malin simultaneously released their firebombs toward Micah. I gasped as I comprehended what was going to happen, but Micah anticipates their move, and dropped to the ground at the last minute. He fell flat on his stomach as the two firebombs flew over his head at astonishing speeds.

They each hit the Malin opposite them, causing the soldiers to instantly catch fire. The men writhed in agony and dropped to the ground, rolling in a desperate attempt to shake the flame. But the magical fire did its job a little too well. Their pain-filled screams resonated through the air, as they continued burning to their death.

Unbeknownst to Micah, the Malin with the broken nose has regained consciousness and was creeping toward him. Micah turned just in time for a firebomb to graze his left shoulder, causing him to fall to the ground in pain. The Malin walked up to him, and with a victorious smile, spit in his face.

The soldier's eyes fixated on me, and he strode toward me with a glint of determination. Realizing that I was his next victim, I attempted to make a run for it. But the moment I put weight on my injured knee, I felt as though I was going to fall. I willed myself to remain standing as the Malin soldier continued toward me, a firebomb in his hand.

I looked desperately at Micah lying on the ground, and at Fletcher, who was unconscious behind the steering wheel. I realized that there was no knight in shining armor coming to rescue me this time. I knew the only hope I had was if I tried to battle the soldier, power for power.

I tried to focus, to summon my magic so I could use it to defend myself, but my fear consumed me, and I could not find a way to access it. Again and again I searched for my magic, but try as I might, I was too terrified to conjure my powers.

I had almost admitted defeat as the Malin continued approaching, but a loud growl made the man stop in his tracks.

Otis jumped out of the truck bed, leaping toward the soldier with a vicious snarl. He bit the man hard on the arm, causing the firebomb to disappear. The Malin screamed and took a swipe at Otis, only to miss by mere inches.

The scene was a flurry of man and fur as they wrestled, each trying to get the upper hand. Otis bit once again, this time taking a chunk from the man's side. The soldier threw another punch at Otis, this time managing to hit him hard in the face.

Otis let out a small yap and landed on his side, but immediately jumped back to his feet. With the hair on his hackles raised, he crouched low, and let out a deep, menacing growl, before pouncing at the man.

The two fought for what felt like an eternity, Otis seeming to have the upper hand. I was beginning to feel hope that he could win, that we could actually survive this. But that feeling was short-lived when the most heinous yelp made my heart stop.

The soldier tossed a limp and blood-splattered Otis to the side, as if he were nothing more than a ragdoll.

Horror and rage filled me at the sight of Otis lying in the grass, unable to move. I forced myself to stand through the excruciating pain, my injured knee shaking under the pressure. I had never hated anyone as much as I hated the Malin soldier, who was now getting to his feet, his arm sporting an oozing, bloody hole.

The man's pompous sneer was now replaced with a loathing glare as he makes his way toward me.

But I was no longer afraid of him. I was filled with a renewed strength and determination. I no longer felt the pain of my knee, or apprehension of the man who wanted me dead. All I felt now was an insatiable anger. It made me powerful and strong to hate this man who attacked the people I cared about. I wanted to see him hurt the way he had hurt those around me.

I allowed the foreign sensation to consume me, taking over my mind. I let the emotion fuel me, giving me strength, as the magic raced through my body and down to my fingertips.

The wind picked up around me. Somehow I knew what to do without even thinking about it. I lifted my hand toward the Malin soldier, ready to attack.

But before I had the chance to use my magic, Micah appeared out of nowhere, diving toward the man. Brandishing the small hunting knife from his belt, he stabbed the Malin in his stomach.

The soldier and I looked at each other, incredulity and shock reflected in each of our faces. I regained control of my emotions, and allowed my arms drop to my side. The wind subsided to a small breeze.

The soldier's hands instinctively reached to his wound, as blood poured from the gaping hole. He paused for a moment, as if measuring the odds of overpowering Micah, then bit his lip in frustration.

"This ain't over," he muttered menacingly.

"You sure about that?" Micah asked, a triumphant smile on his lips.

He leapt toward the man, his knife outstretched. But before Micah could finish the job, the man disappeared into thin air, leaving me and Micah standing alone in the forest.

Abruptly, Micah lashed out. "Were you about to use magic again? After they just tracked us?" he snapped.

I wanted to yell at him, to tell him I had no choice because I was injured and alone, that my protector was unconscious, but I was too overwhelmed to argue with him.

I had come so close to death, too close. My heart was still pounding anxiously in my chest. I probably wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for Otis.

Otis!

I put all my energy into moving my injured leg forward to the spot where he was lying motionless on the forest floor.

My heart dropped when I saw him. His fur was missing in several chunks, and he was covered in bright red blood. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as though he was struggling to breathe, and there was a large laceration extending across his abdomen.

I was no veterinarian, but I knew by looking at the wound that it was too deep and severe to repair.

I fell to the ground beside him, feeling weak. I reached out and pulled him gently into my arms as he gave a small whimper of protest. Tears filled my eyes, causing my vision to blur, as Micah squatted down beside me. We simply sat with Otis, petting and caressing him as his breathing grew more and more ragged.

Leaning down, I kisses the top of his head, and whispered, "Thank you, Otis. Thank you for saving my life."

He gave me a small lick across my cheek, washing away my tears as if to say, "you're welcome", before taking one last breath and falling still.

Thank you for reading! If you are enjoying this story so far, don't forget to vote! :)

© Dawn Norwell