Logan stared out into the night, his eyes searching the shadows for any more of the wolves. There was no movement. No feral eyes shone out of the darkness, and only the faint whisper of the night breeze reached his ears.

  “I wasn’t ready for them,” Logan whispered to Talan.

  ‘You have just started learning magic,’ Talan said. ‘You cannot expect to do much more than you already can yet.’

  “So there won’t be any savod cutting anytime soon,” Logan said.

  ‘Hold out your hand,’ Talan said.

  Logan did as he was told, holding out his hand and leaving it splayed in the air. There was nothing new with it. No surge of power rushed through his arm, and no magic sparked in his palm.

  ‘Concentrate on reaching out, just beyond your hand,’ Talan said. ‘But don’t move it.’

  Logan did as Talan told him, closing his eyes tight and scrunching his face as he willed his touch beyond his reach. He still didn’t feel anything. The entire exercise seemed pointless.

  ‘There it is.’ His hand tingled as Talan spoke and Logan opened his eyes.

  A faint shadow stretched around his hands. It wasn’t raging out of control like the first time he used the magic. It only wavered in his sight, like black mist just before it dissipated into the air.

  ‘You aren’t at your strongest yet,’ Talan said. ‘But I can begin to teach you now. After you know all that I do, you will only need to overcome your hindrance to unlock your soul’s full potential.’

  “I’ve done this before,” Logan said. “When we first made the pact, it covered my arms.”

  ‘It’s not unusual for a person’s first use of magic to be greater than normal, especially in dangerous situations.’ Talan said.

  “Well, it’ll have to wait,” Logan said as the sun rose on the horizon.

  All around him, the men of the camp were picking up the dead from the ground and placing them into hastily dug graves. There weren’t many, maybe ten in total, but it wasn’t like the night before. They hadn’t even left the outskirts of Atria.

  He could see Elaine nearby, looking on from where she leaned on a wagon’s side. Her arms were crossed and her face was grim. Logan rose from the ground and walked over to her. His legs were still numb from the night before.

  “Any on your side of camp?” he asked.

  “None,” Elaine said. “I’m starting to think it wasn’t intentional.”

  “I think so as well.” Joshua walked up from around a wagon.

  “They looked similar to the savod,” Logan said. “It’s suspicious.”

  “If it was the same creature, it wouldn’t hesitate to attack us,” Joshua said, his eyes drifting over to the graves. “They just ran away after they first attacked.”

  ‘There’s something wrong,’ Talan whispered in his mind. ‘That man is different from before.’

  “Maybe it wasn’t the savod then,” Logan said, nodding his head. “Otherwise they would have just killed everyone.”

  “We should be cautious either way,” Elaine said. “We don’t have a way to fight them.”

  Logan wanted to say differently, but Talan’s words were still in his mind. He could hurt one, maybe just enough for them to escape a major fight, but he knew he couldn’t kill one yet. He had to get stronger.

  “I’ll go talk to Carl,” Logan said, leaving Joshua and Elaine behind.

  “How is he different?” Logan asked once he was out of their hearing range.

  ‘It’s hard to place,’ Talan said. ‘His magic seems muted now, but there is a trace of savod on him.’

  “I don’t know how magic works,” Logan said. “But could it just be because of the wolves last night?”

  Talan said nothing in response. There was no need to press it. Logan shrugged to himself and started his search for Carl. He finally found the man, standing over the graves as Carl oversaw the burying of his men.

  “A bad omen, wolves killing men in the night,” Carl said as Logan approached.

  “How many were yours?” Logan looked down into the graves.

  “All of them are mine.” Carl closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “The caravan master still wants to continue the journey, even with ten men already dead.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “You’re still going, aren’t you?” Logan asked.

  “Aye,” Carl said, turning to walk away. “I am a man of my word, and I signed on my men to protect this caravan. We still go north. I trust that you three are still with us.”

  “We will be with you so long as you journey north.” Logan nodded.

  Carl clasped his hand in a firm shake and then walked away. The man’s eyes were wet with hidden tears. Logan knew the look. He had seen it from Adrian before. He knew not to ask the man anything else.

  The sun peeked above the horizon when the caravan left out. Carl stretched his remaining men thin around the line of wagons; each one barely had two people to guard it. Logan, Elaine and Joshua took up the rear guard.

  Logan fell back into pace with his normal routine. It was slow and boring, just the way he liked it. It was so much like his old mercenary work. He could practically hear Van and Carl joking as they walked along behind the wagons.

  They didn’t and wouldn’t stop to take breaks during the day. If they were hungry, they had dried food in their packs. If they were thirsty, they had skins of warm water. That was just part of the mercenary business.

  Logan concentrated on the edges of his vision, even if there wasn’t much to see. There wouldn’t be many dangers until they reached the plains. However, that thought wasn’t very comforting with the wolves from the night before.

  Even with the slow pace of the wagons, they crossed the border of Tyra and into the plains when the sun fell below the horizon again. Two great stone boulders marked the end of the road, only rough dirt and sparse grass remained beyond it.

  It was a slow and gradual change, the greens of the fields in the kingdom slowly dried into twisted shrubs. The borders reached just beyond it, and every road in Tyra was marked with the great stones.

  There was something written on them, something that the first king of Tyra had said. Logan had seen it enough times, but he didn’t know what it said. Reading wasn’t something that a mercenary needed.

  “Through the blood of Bjorn, I claim this land,” Joshua said in between breaths.

  Logan didn’t respond to the words. His bones ached and his breath was short in his chest. He wasn’t sure how Joshua managed to speak. The mage looked worse than either he or Elaine did.

  Logan was ready to see the sun set. Already the wind blew at the hot air of the day, giving them some relief. It would still be a warm night, and there would be no spare water to bathe in for at least two weeks.

  The caravan stopped just beyond the borders at nightfall. The wagons circled around the spot. So long as it didn’t rain, there would be no need to bring out the tents, and the wagons would act as a first line of defense if the attack came.

  They made a bonfire when night fell. The women of the caravan set about cooking their stores, and made a great pot of soup for everyone. Logan sipped his own from a wooden bowl as he sat away from the fire.

  A nervous quiet surrounded the caravan. It was the quiet before the storm. Logan was all too familiar with it. After they left the safety of Tyra and walked into the plains, it was a guarantee that sarpans would attack.

  ‘Are you ready for your training?’ Talan asked as he finished his bowl.

  “As I’ll ever be,” Logan whispered as he rose up.

  He returned his bowl to the cooks and left the camp. The sentries didn’t comment as he left, nodding to him. He would need a place with some privacy to work on the magic. There was no forest to hide him from sight though.

  He finally found a suitable place, a small hill that dropped down quickly on the other side. He sat down in the brown grass and brought his legs up under him. He wasn’t sure if it was the right pose to take, but he couldn’t think of anything better.

  “I’m ready,” he whispered to Talan.

  “Good.” Talan rose from the darkness before him. “We have a lot to work on.”

  “So,” Logan said. “What are we going to do?”

  “My magic, your magic, starts with the soul,” Talan said, taking hold of his hand and holding the palm up. “It is the will of the soul that shapes it and makes it into any form.”

  A light tingle ran through Logan’s hand as a faint wispy shadow rose from it. It had no form and was just a blob of darkness floating above his palm. With a single finger, Talan picked up the shadow, stretching up above his hand.

  “This is a part of your soul, extended beyond your body,” she said.

  “You’re saying it’s my soul that hurts the savod?” Logan asked, and the shadow fell back beneath his skin.

  “It is the same as their outer shell,” Talan said. “It is the only thing that the savod’s shell is vulnerable to. Beyond those mages, there are few in Nelim left that can wield their soul’s power. The savod just need to follow the taste when the power is unleashed.”

  Logan called up the power in his hand again. The faint wisp of magic rose again out of his palm and hovered there. This was what the savod used to track them. Even now, he was risking discovery by just training with it.

  “I’ve already taken the first step,” he whispered. “So, what do you want me to do, Talan?”

  “First, we start with the basics,” Talan said with an impish smile. “I want you to practice picking up stones with the magic.”

  Logan didn’t think that was much to do, but he did as he was told. He gathered three stones from the loose dirt and placed them on the ground. With one hand outstretched, he focused on the stones.

  Nothing happened.

  He felt the slight tingle of the magic, but the shadow stayed attached to his hand. He kept trying to force it, straining his face as he imagined a billowy hand reaching out and taking hold of the stones.

  Still, nothing happened.

  “I don’t understand it,” Logan said.

  “You’re forcing it,” Talan said. “That is the problem.”

  “So what am I supposed to do?” Logan gritted his teeth.

  “Let go,” Talan said. “Act just like you would if you were going to pick up the stone with your hand.”

  “Except I don’t use my hand,” Logan said, closing his eyes again.

  “You’ll understand, just keep trying.” Talan stood back, watching him intently.

  Logan started his work again, holding his hand over one of the stones and concentrating. He let go of his thoughts on the magic. It still tingled on his hand, but even that feeling quieted in time.

  He imagined himself reaching down and picking up the stone. He didn’t bend down to touch it. He told himself that he could not do that. He just imagined himself reaching down and plucking the stone from the ground.

  “Perfect.” Talan’s voice brought him back to the world.

  When Logan opened his eyes, the stone was there, floating in the air in the grip of a shadowy hand. He gasped. He had done it. That realization shattered the magic. With a sudden jerk, the shadow disappeared and the stone fell back to the dirt.

  “Again,” Talan said before he could say anything. “Do it again and again until it is as easy as breathing.”

  Logan did as he was told, holding his hand above the stone and starting again.