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Warlock Ex Libris
Chapter 1: Rowan

Chapter 1: Rowan

All men lie. But not all men lie for the same reasons.

The passage guard scowled at my journeyman's permit while I maintained my composure. Bright and light and innocent, I kept telling myself. Bright and light and innocent. Convincing myself it was true was the next best thing to, well, actually being truthful.

"You're from the All Continent?" The guard was a stout man, square in just about every way, with a face that matched his sour disposition. "Says here you're a... student?"

"I'm an apprentice," I corrected him. "I've come to Centaura to study under the kingdom librarian, Una Wickwellem."

The guard snorted. "You're studying to be a librarian?"

"Yes, sir." I blinked, letting my dimpled smile do the work for me. The part about the apprenticeship was true, at least. The rest of the permit – well, most of it, anyway - was a forged lie.

Behind me on the dock, a long line of fellow travelers grew restless. We'd all spent the better part of the day on the ferry from the All Continent to this island. Seasick, tired, and grumpy, no one wanted to be scrutinized by a Centauran passage guard less than me, but there was no way to get beyond the port without his approval.

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The guard read through the contents of my permit. "No prior convictions, no military experience, no magic-bearing abilities."

"That's correct," I said tightly.

He stared at the paper in silence for a moment, then back at my face. My smile became coy. He didn't seem the type I could flirt with, so I hoped my so-called inner charm would be enough. His gaze lingered, then he gestured for another guard to join him.

Fear cut through me like a blade.

The second guard was taller and had a look of befuddlement to him, but he wasn't unattractive. I snuck a wink in his direction. He managed a dopey grin. Good, I thought. I could leverage this, if I had to...

Before I could prepare myself for whatever trouble seemed to be brewing, the squat guard held his hand out to the taller guard.

"Stamp," he said.

The taller guard fetched the stamp and inkpad for his superior, who then pressed the official kingdom seal to my permit. My stomach unclenched; my face relaxed. I wouldn't need to flirt my way to freedom after all. A nagging feeling told me I wouldn't always be this lucky.

"Watch after yourself, boy," the stout guard said as he handed back my permit. "Someone who looks like you could get himself in a lot of trouble."

"Trouble?" I feigned, gathering my travel bag. "Trouble will not find me, sir."

As I walked away, I shot the taller guard another wink. He stared after me hungrily before his superior elbowed him in the ribs. My smile disappeared as soon as his eyes were off me. It happened as naturally as taking off a mask.

My last words to that guard were a lie, I'm sorry to say. Trouble would find me. It always did.

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