The next day, Cassie spread out her pack and took stock of what she would need that day. A bag to collect greens from the forest as she moved; she could also use it to collect acorns to soak overnight. Her waterskin would be at the top of the pack, especially since the day looked to be clear. She packed the twin oilskins and blanket tightly at the bottom of the pack, since she wouldn't need them until nightfall. The soap she packed up the top, in the hopes that she would find a stream to camp beside at lunchtime. The traps she set near the bottom of the pack, to set up overnight.

"You know, my way is a lot more humane," Angus said. "They're not scared like they are in a trap."

"This way they have a chance though," Cassie replied.

"So it's okay for a cow to not have a chance, but a rabbit needs one?" Angus argued, but Cassie didn't feel like continuing the discussion.

The day was cheerful, one of those sudden bright autumn days where winter still seems far away. Cassie grew cheerful, making a game out of clambering over logs the most efficient way. She took her time, stopping to harvest mushrooms, hazelnuts, and a few sleepy giant moths.

"You eat moths?" Angus asked, taken aback.

"You don't?"

"Wouldn't they be furry?"

"You cook them first."

"Oh. Nearer the Glade the moths can get as big as your head."

"Ew."

"How is that--never mind..."

Cassie stopped late for lunch, the angled sun struggling to get through the tangled branches above her. She found a slightly clearer space where an old tree had fallen, and sat on the old trunk while she ate a lunch of flatbread and hazelnuts. The forest was silent, peaceful. A bird called.

"There's someone here," Angus said, "but the bird doesn't know if they are a threat or not."

"Are they?"

"Almost certainly. Do you know how to fight?"

"I know how to deal with animals, not people," Cassie said, worried.

"People are animals that walk around with their vulnerable bellies exposed; I'm sure you'll be fine."

"I can tell you are lying to me," Cassie said, reaching out and gripping the staff the templeman had given her.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"What?" Angus said, taken aback. "But lying to myself used to be my best skill..."

Cassie stood up, balancing on the log. "Please come out," she said. "I know you are there." The birds chattered at the sound of her voice, then went still. Cassie waited, staring into the forest around her.

"Behind you, Angus said suddenly, and Cassie turned, swinging her staff down as she turned and hitting the wrist of the cultist sneaking up on her with a knife. He stumbled back, and Cassie slid down the trunk after him, swinging the staff as hard as she could at his head. It connected with a thud, and the cultist fell to the ground.

"Behind you again," Angus warned, and Cassie spun around, her staff just blocking a sword strike that numbed her hands and pushed her staff out of the way. Cassie twisted the other end of the stick up, stepped forward, and slipped on the leaf litter, her strike falling into his groin rather than his chest. The cultist groaned, sagged, and Cassie regained her feet and struck him in the head for good measure.

"And again--" Angus yelled, and Cassie spun again, too late to meet the charge of the third cultist, who rammed into her, pinning her to the log. Cassie dropped her stick and grabbed his wrists. One hand held nothing; the other a knife, and both were aiming for her neck. She kicked out at him, and he pinned her skirts with his knee.

"You're going to have to use my power again," Angus said urgently. "Sorry it'll hurt. Take a deep breath--"

A hand reached out from the other side of the log, and lightly touched the cultist's head. He dropped to the ground, dead. Cassie looked up, and saw an upside-down young man, leaning casually over the log. Angus squeaked, and somehow turned in on himself, seeming to disappear. He left a hole in Cassie's head, and she felt echoey and dull. She turned, and watched as the man slid over the log and walk towards the cultists. He was very tall and thin and wore all black with a dark blue cloak. His hair was blue-black and his eyes were green, like Cassie's own. Witch's eyes, her mother used to tease her. The man took a sickle from his belt and slashed the throats of the two cultists Cassie had defeated. He then turned to her. She straightened as he looked her up and down.

"I don't know why you are playing dress-up as a witch, but it is not very wise to do so with these cultists around," the man said.

"Thank you, yes, but these are the only clothes I have," Cassie said. The man seemed to lose interest in her and turned to loot the bodies of the cultists. Cassie cautiously bent down and gathered up the temple stick, and cautiously backed a few steps away.

"Well, thank you for your help, I'd best be going now," she said in a quiet voice. The man didn't say anything in reply, and with relief Cassie turned to go.

"Wait," the man said, suddenly appearing in front of her. She yelped, and stumbled back. "I want to ask you what you know about the cultists... oh." The man looked disgruntled, and put his hands in the air. "I mean you no harm."

"Promise?" Cassie asked.

"Promise," the man said, looking angry and insulted. "On my name."

"Which is? Mine's Cassie," Cassie said quickly, hoping she hadn't annoyed this man who could kill with a touch any further.

"I am Magnus," the man said without expression.

"You are named after a god?"

"No."

"Oh." That would explain why Angus was hiding, Cassie thought. Their feud must be bigger than she had supposed. "I was on my way to try to find the gods, to ask them with help fighting the cultists."

"Look no further," Magnus said, giving a short bow. "Magnus, defender of witches and slayer of the Cult of the Trickster at your service."