She knew she was letting go of a lot of supplies, but there was nothing for it. She didn’t know Kwent, but she did know that Morgan could fly and she needed to get under cover as quickly as possible.

Like every city or town, Kwent had a maze of narrow alleyways. Her shoes pattering on the ground, she dodged past onlookers, slipping under their gaze.

Pulling her wand out from where she’d stuck it into an inner shirt pocket, she muttered under her breath with labored breathing, one of the few spells she knew and could cast.

“Rowena, wait! We don’t mean any harm!” yelled Hattie.

The words rang true in Rowena’s heart, almost halting her spell. The pair were kind, happy, and they either cared for, or were deeply in love with one another. There wasn’t any way two people who shared that affection could be truly horrible.

But Rowena couldn’t tell them what she’d seen. She didn’t know if it would happen.

Oh, that was a lie. She was quite certain the pair were going to die in the fire.

So why didn’t she want to tell them?

Hide first, think later.

Rowena looked up. The alleyway she was in was coming to a deserted crossstreet. Underneath, flying in the wind, were strewn laundry-lines of linens and clothing.

That would have to do for cover. Rounding the corner, she found a covered water barrel, the type used to keep spare water for fighting spot fires. Every town had these barrels set at street corners, for the risk of fire was always high in such places.

Dropping her pack behind the barrel, she ripped the cover off and leapt into the water as she cast her spell. Sylva had only taught her a few parlor tricks, but this one was incredibly useful. It allowed her to deaden the sounds near her. She certainly needed to deaden the splashing and sloshing of the water that soaked through her thin clothing. With a wave of her wand, she floated the barrel’s cover back onto the barrel and submerged herself into darkness.

Thankfully, for some reason, there wasn’t much water in the barrel. It was not even half-full, but it was enough to soak Rowena to her chest. Wrapping her thin arms around hearself, Rowena bit her lip as she tried to resist the urge to get out of the freezing water. Perhaps her effort was in vain, but there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t outrun the two women and they were far more skilled mages. All she could do was try to take advantage of the fact they didn’t know if she had this kind of magic.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Of course, that was if they didn’t suspect she was the person who set the fire in Leipmont.

Panting, holding her own throat with one hand to try to slow her breathing, Rowena froze as she heard wingbeats from not one, but two distinct sets of wings. The water level was surprisingly not too high and it only went up to her shoulders. She could hear the pair.

“I lost her. How…where did she go?” Morgan squawked.

Hattie whistled a tune and a dark blue glow shone through the gaps between the barrel’s lid and the staves. “It seems Rowena is holding onto some secrets and maybe a surprise or two. I doubt we shall be seeing her soon.”

Morgan’s claws made a distinct click-click sound as she strutted on the cobblestone. “She said she was heading for Athelda-Aoun. Maybe she’s a refugee? But why would she be so scared of us? We’ve welcomed orphans including those who have committed petty crimes. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“I don’t know, my love, but I lament that we can’t find her. I’m worried we might have scared her away. I just hope that wherever she is, and whoever she is, she may find happiness,” said Hattie.

“I hope so too. Nobody deserves to be that terrified. I…I remember what that was like.” A pause and Morgan sighed. “Thank you, Hattie. Just a bad memory. In any case, it is rather strange that she knew my name. Do you think I should mention that in my call to mom?”

“Yes, she will know what to do with that information, especially since we do have work to do. Kwent needs to be protected,” said Hattie.

“Yes. We know the next arson attack is likely to be here—” There was a hiss as Morgan sucked in a sharp breath. “Hattie…we need to talk in private, back at the White Order House.”

“Alright.”

The click-click sounds of Morgan’s feet and the more duller sound of Hattie’s boots started to grow soft as Rowena continued to shiver in the dark water.

She’d ran and successfully escaped the two mages.

So why did she feel so horrible? Why…why were tears trickling down her cheeks?

Alone, in that cold wet barrel, Rowena shivered, but not from the cold.

Morgan and Hattie were going to die, trying and failing to protect Kwent. They were going to die and she wasn’t going to stop them. How could she stop them anyway? Telling them what she saw in her vision wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t save them.

Besides, what if they did believe her? What if they found out she could see the future, and the past?

What if they didn’t want her to stop seeing the future and the past? What if they wrote up a contract and forced her to keep using the only gift that had been hers alone?

What if she saw the future and those two kind women were going to die if she did nothing?

What kind of person would she be?

Rowena opened her eyes and with shaking hands, pushed open the barrel lid.

The cross street was deserted. She pulled herself out of the tall barrel as best she could. As she put one foot over the edge, she slipped.

She slid onto the cobblestone with a thud. Her thin frame shuddered as she went sprawling. The sharp pain jolted her senses, and made her whimper all the more.

Even so, her dilemma, and her decision hadn’t changed.