Wolf eyes, chapter 2

Zita woke the next day on the side of the road, her limbs stiff and sore from the long night of walking. She forced herself to her feet and steadied herself on wobbly legs and forced one in front of the other. The gravel bit into to soles of her feet and the sun shone in her eyes, blinding her. She lifted a hand to block the bright rays and continued on her way, making slow progress along the forest lined road.

Stupid girl, that voice was back, you should have just put up with it! They would have stopped! She tried to shut it up again, but with nothing else to distract her thoughts it returned, You ignorant little selfish child! Now you’re going to die in the middle of nowhere at age thirteen all because you couldn’t handle a little rough play! She grit her teeth at her thoughts and blocked them out, turning them to something else.

She began to practice the little spells she had taught herself by watching and listening to the people around her, and some of them she made up herself.

She tried one of the simplest spells she knew, using tintiline, the simplest known form of magic, she tried to make a leaf in her path dance in the air. She started with her hands up, palms facing away from her, and pushed them away from her, then brought them back and laid them on top of each other, backs together, and curled her fingers. She pulled her arms apart and put her palms forward again, moving her hands so one was above the other with its palm out and fingers relaxed and the other was beneath it with the palm up and fingers flat. In a quick movement the thrust the topmost hand up and the leaf followed. She wriggled her fingers and watched it dance, and swayed her hand and watched it follow.

She laughed in delight and moved her other hand, locking that hand on another leaf and teaching herself to twist and wriggle her hands in smooth or jerking patterns to make the leaves bend to her will. She dropped her focus on the leaves and searched for a challenge. Her eyes landed on a rock about the size of her fist sitting at the edge of the road. She narrowed her eyes at it and repeated the pattern with her hands.

This time, she poured more effort into the spell, trying out a fighter-like stance. It worked. The rock hovered in the air in front of her and moved to her will much more precisely than the leaves did. She thrust her hands to the side and the rock followed her movement perfectly. She smirked as an idea came to mind. She thrust her hands to the side again, aiming them at a tree just across the road and released her control of the rock just before her hands stopped. The rock launched at the tree, missing the trunk by nearly a foot. Zita grinned regardless, the sensation of the magic still ringing in her fingertips.

She continued on her way, trying to remember those times Lincoln and Martin had taken the kids to the city for their mandatory yearly doctor's appointments. She figured it was this way, but she couldn’t be sure with the forest looking the same no matter which direction she went. She figured it didn’t matter anyway, she’d end up somewhere other than that damned house, and that was good enough for her.

She continued along like that for a while, occasionally taking control of a pebble or a stick to keep her occupied as she went. She discovered that she didn’t need the keep her hands raised to keep control of and object. She only needed to moved her hands if she wanted it to do something or to get control in the first place, but if she simply wanted it to hover in the air and follow her around she could gain control and drop her hands, keeping her mind focused on the object the wanted control of.

Soon she had a growing ring of leaves, twigs, and rocks forming around her and she was straining her mind to keep focused on all of them. Every once in a while a stone or twig would drop to the ground and she would get distracted and lose concentration, making even more fall to the ground. She grit her teeth in frustration and blocked everything else out of her mind, thinking only of the random bits of nature she had floating around her.

There was the sound of voices and the clatter of hooves and the remaining items dropped to the ground. She scampered to the side of the road just as the travelers rounded the bend. A troll sat on a hovering carriage while a white pegasus pulled it in the front. The carriage was like a floating brown disk with small gates along the sides to keep the blanket-covered contents from spilling over the edge.

The troll waved with a stubby green-grey hand Zita waved back, offering a friendly smile. She got a toothy grin in return and a few hand gestures, which she figured was sign language. The troll must have seen her confused look because her face fell and she settled on just giving another wave as she passed. Zita tried not to feel guilty as the cart passed her by and she spotted a bunch of little kids sitting in a little nest of blankets in the back and playing with little dolls. One of the little boys held up his cyr doll and pointed to her covered wings, then to the wings of the doll, the obvious question in his eyes. She nodded, though a little stiffly, and gave a little smile, trying not to make it look pained.

The little boy giggled and bounced the doll up and down, gesturing enthusiastically with his hands and making grunting noises with his mouth that Zita figured was his attempt at speech. The cart rounded the next bend and Zita continued on, thinking about the little troll kids with the deaf mother. Would they learn to speak later in life? Did they have a father who could hear? She shook her head, it wasn’t her business. What was her business, was getting to the city. So she went on, occasionally practicing with her magic and at one point making a little patch of flowers all float up from the roadside and dance around in the air like a little color guard for a marching band.

Zita smiled to herself as she lowered the flowers gently to the ground in a perfect circle, their dance coming to a close. More hoofbeats sounded on the gravel road and she stepped to the side once again and watched the bend in front of her. As she got closer the sounds stopped and were replaced with voices.

“We should stop,” A woman said, her Rykovorian accent thicker than any Zita had heard in her somewhat limited experience, “it’s getting dark and the animals need rest,”

Zita looked up and saw the the sun had, indeed, vanished over the tops of the trees, painting the sky all shades of orange and red almost a bright as Zita’s own almost luminescent orange hair.

“Fine,” a gruff male voce grumbled, “but we get moving again at first light,” There was the sound of shuffling as, Zita presumed, the riders dismounted whatever hoofed animals they were riding and moved about, setting up a campsite, Zita guessed.

The winged girl decided not to hide out like a criminal and walked around the bend, planning on asking directions so she could get on her way, she was not very keen on the idea of spending a night in a camp near strangers.

She rounded the bend and slowed her pace, taking in the scene before her. Three figures stood in the road guiding their respective pegasi into the woods while a fluffy silver kitten floated around the tallest of them’s head in a lazy circle. The one with the kitten spotted her before Zita could announce herself.

“Hey kid,” It was the woman who had spoken first said, “What’r you doing out here alone?” She questioned, the others in her group turning to look at the newcomer.

Zita shrank under their gazes and tried to stutter something out but it came out something like, “I-er-I...”

“You a runaway kid?” the one who hasn't spoken yet said, her voice surprisingly high pitched for her bulky frame.

“Naw,” A new voice said from behind her and she jumped, whirling around to see a boy, maybe a year older than her, with windswept brown hair styled up with the top longer then the sides and black eyes that Zita knew spelled trouble, “She’s with me,” He walked over to her casually and threw an arm around her shoulders like they were old friends, “We’re on our way to the city it you wouldn’t mind pointing us in that direction?” He met Zita’s eyes, his gaze warning her to play along. Warning her against what? She didn’t know.

The tall woman gave them a suspicious look and Zita forced a smile, like ‘yeah I totally know this person and he is definitely not a stranger to me’.

The woman still looked suspicious, but she pointed down the road and said, “Down that way, turn left at the crossroads,”

The boy gave her a salute and guided Zita down the road, angling her shoulders so she couldn’t help noticing the assorted weapons hanging from the sides of their pegasi. Zita tried to force herself to relax, to try to keep the facade the boy seemed to uphold so easily, but she found it nearly impossible. Her shoulders were to tense and her smile to forced for it to be believable.

They rounded the bend and continued for a few feet in silence, Zita still stiff and brimming with questions and the boy seeming to relax more and more the further they were from the travelers. Finally, they stopped, once they were out of earshot.

The boy removed his arm from her shoulders and stepped back, holding up a finger to silence her before she could even open her mouth, “I know you have questions,” He said, an annoying little twinkle in his eye, “And you have every right to have them answered, but right now,” He glanced around nervously, the first crack in his easygoing mask, “I can’t answer them.”

There was the crunch of leaves from the forest and some muffled cursing. Pretty boy whirled around, his hands whirling in the practiced form of a spell. A figure emerged from the brush, followed by two others. The first was the hulking frame of the squeaky voiced woman, a long glowing broadsword in her meaty fist. The second were the tall woman and the man, both with elegant rappiers.

The first woman sneered, “Get outta’ the way boy,”

He had the audacity to smirk at her, “Not a chance,” The woman didn’t give another warning. She lunged forward and the boy thrust his hands out. The woman stumbled backward, pushed by a green glow. The glow moved, following the movements of the boys hands, and wrapped around the woman's legs, dragging her screaming into the forest.

The other two advanced simultaneously, the man stabbing and the woman slashing at him with their swords. He scampered out of the way and thrust his hands out once again. The green glow followed, trying to push them back as it had with the first woman. But the others had learned from their colleges mistake and both were able to dodge it and advance. He brought his hands back toward him and the glow followed suit, knocking them both over from behind.

The bulky woman had returned from her little trip through the underbrush and she ran at the boy, her sword raised to strike. Zita acted quickly, using the spell she had practiced earlier, she picked up a thick branch that had come uncovered when the woman was dragged over it, and put it between her sword and the boy.

There was a loud crack! As the sword lodged itself in the thick wood. It cut almost halfway through and splintered the thing nearly in half, Zita shuddered to think what it would have done to the boys head. The boy glanced behind him, keeping most of his focus on the spell he was using to wrap a set of vines around the pair he was fighting, and he stepped out of the way so Zita could release her hold.

She did and the woman let out a cry of anger as the log came down, splintering in two on the ground. The woman turned on Zita, her face burning red with rage. Her nostrils flared and she stomped forward, preparing her sword for another strike. Zita looked desperately around for anything she could use as a weapon. The log was just ticks and splinters, and there wasn’t much she could do with the gravel.

The boy finished tying up the pair and realized what was happening. His eyes widened and he shouted a spell, yanking a wand from the inside of his coat. Yellow light shot from the tip and hit the woman square in the back. She screamed in agony and toppled to the ground, twitching.

He ran over to Zita and snatched up her hand and dragged her after him into the woods. They crashed through the underbrush, the boy’s head turning from side to side as they went, searching for enemies. Soon they heard shouting and the sound of three more people making their way through the dense blanket of autumn leaves.

The boy cursed and tugged her to the side, hiding them behind a thick tree. He clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her startled shout and listened to their attackers. His head swiveled around, surveying the surrounding forest, presumably for a way out. Zita was suddenly aware of how close he was to her and she immediately pushed him away, giving him a gentle shove and hoping he got her meaning. He seemed to realize what she meant and his cheeks tinged pink and he stepped back carefully, onto one of the few leaf-free patches of the forest floor.

The travelers were getting closer and the boys sense of urgency returned. He put a finger to his lips and motioned for Zika to stay put, something she was more than happy to do. The boy stepped carefully around the tree, careful not to make more sound than a gentle breeze, and made his way as quickly as possible to the next tree without being spotted.

He disappeared behind the trunk and a few moments later Zita heard him call out, “Hey dummies!” And then the sound of heavy footfalls and battle cries, and shrieks of fear, then nothing. Zita stood absolutely still as the sounds of the forest buzzed in her ears, once almost inaudible, now deafening.

She heard the crunch of gravel under boots and stood absolutely still, hardly daring to breathe. “You can come out now,” the boy called softly, like one would talk to a frightened child. For some reason, that infuriated Zita. She marched out to the center of the road and faced the boy, giving him a stern look and trying to look intimidating, despite the fact that he was a good half head taller than her.

He suppressed an amused look and help up his hands in surrender. She opened her mouth to say something but the words died in her throat. Behind the boy the road was a wreck. The gravel looked as though it had all been overturned by a giant plow, and a deep pit now marred the center of the street. But the worst part was the bood. Inside the pit Zita could just see some little bits of fabric and tufts of hair sticking out over the top, all of it blood splattered. Reddened bits of rock and sand dusted the road, and the nearest trees were splattered with the stuff.

The boy stepped in front of her before she could examine further. He took in her horror stricken face, his playful smile fading.

“Hey, don’t look at that,” He said tenderly, reaching for her arm.

She stepped back instinctively, turning her gaze on him, “Who are you?” She demanded, “What did you…” She gulped, scrambling backward without taking her eyes off the boy.

He just stood there, not making any move to stop her, “My name is Kivvien,” He said, retaining eye contact, “Those people,” He gestured to the bloodied pit, “They killed some people I cared about, children,” He took a shuddering breath and squeezed his eyes shut as if to block out the memories.

Zita kept walking backwards, though slower now, giving Kivvien a chance to explain.

He met her eyes again, an unreadable emotion showing in the murky green, “I’ve been practicing magic for years, it was my job to protect those kids, and I failed, so it became my job to avenge them,” He took a step away from her. She stopped in surprise, forgetting to be afraid of him for a moment before putting her guard back up, but her feet remained planted to the ground.

“I’m headed to the city, their directions were wrong,” His hands moved in the air while he spoke, emphasizing his words as he talked, “You actually have to turn the other way at the crossroad, if you went the way they said you’d end up in the thieves pass, I’m sure they’ve got buddies down there who’d be happy to…” He trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut again against the memories, “Nevermind. If you’re headed that way I could find an alternate route, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me,”

Zita stood stunned for a second to process what he had said as Kivvien turned to leave. She shook herself out of her daze and called after him, “Wait!”

He turned to her, “Yes?”

She ran to catch up to him, “Teach me,” She said, “Teach me magic,”

He shook his head, smirking, “What makes you think I’m a good teacher?”

She shrugged, “They were right about one thing, “She said, gesturing to the pit without looking at it, “I am a runaway, and it’s not like I know what I’m doing out here,” She waved her hands around in indication of their situation, “I’d probably get myself killed within the week,”

Kivvien considered her, taking in her almost glowing orange hair and the red, green and blue feathers that peeked out under her covering. He met her mismatched eyes and smirked, “Alright Wolf Eyes, I’ll teach you a few spells. I know a safe place where you can stay if you trust me,”

Zita hesitated. If you trust me. She hadn’t thought of that. Did she trust him? No. Not really, but without him she might very well get herself killed. Whether she like it or not, he was her best chance.

She nodded, “Okay,”

He nodded back and waved her after him, “We should get out of here before a patrol comes along, I don’t think either of us could explain this without getting ourselves arrested,” Zita glanced at the bloodied pit, bile rising in her throat at the sight of it.

She shook her head, “Probably not,” and followed Kivvien around the bend.

They chatted as they walked, making small talk mostly, neither of them giving away anything about their personal lives. The conversation drifted to the city, and Kivvien asked why she was going there.

Zita shrugged, “I guess it was the closest place? I’ve never traveled around a lot, so I guess I just didn’t know where to go,”

Kivvien eyed her out of the corner of his eye, “It’s not the safest place for runaways,” He admitted, “but it does have the easiest to find Kid Stops,”

“Kid Stops?”

Kivvien hesitated, “Er...the safe places I was telling you about,” He decided, “Most people call them Kid Stops because it’s mostly kids who use them, but some adults do as well. I’m one of the people who protect them, you know, cover them up after they move and stuff,” He shrugged. Zita didn’t get any of that, but she nodded anyway and fiddled with her bag strap.

They walked in silence for a few beats before Zita spoke up, “You said you would teach me some spells?”

Kivvien started and stared at her, “Oh! Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry, I forgot,”

Zita didn’t know how to respond, so she just shrugged, “Er, so…” She trailed off.

Kivvien smirked and positioned his hands in front of him, one on top of the other, palms together, “Follow my movements,” He said and began to move through the spell slowly. First he moved his feet, one step forward, then he pulled his hands apart and brought the other foot to meet its twin. He glanced up at Zita, who was looking in confusion at his hands, which didn’t glow with magica as they should.

He seemed to realize her problem and said, “Oh, I’m not actually channeling my magic, and you have to do it much faster,” He went through the movements again, this time quickly. His hands lit up neon green and trailed a glittering mist as they weaved through the air. When he finished with his palms facing each other, there was a luminescent orb between them, tiny strands of Kivviens magic crackling with power as they connected the orb to his hand. Zita was reminded of a plasma ball like the one Foy had brought home from his trip to Chorismagia, proudly displaying it to the others with a giant grin. Of course, Zita was thankful to that little toy, as it offered relief to the enduring boredom to her siblings that did not involve pulling out her practically luminescent orange hair or tugging at her red, blue, and green wings..

Zita was snapped back to reality when Kivvien looked up at her, “Er, it works as a light, see,” He relaxed his stance and shifted the orb to one hand, balancing it on a set of thin fingers with seemingly no effort at all. Zita resisted the urge to groan. She had been practicing magic in private for years now. Nothing was ever easy with one hand.

She put on what she hoped was a stony mask and tried it anyway, trying to channel her magic through her hands as she mimicked the movements of the spell. She practically jumped when her palms lit up orange and immediately lost focus. The light fizzled out as quickly as it had come. She scowled at her traitorous hands and refused to look at Kivvien.

“We should get going,” He said after a pause, a hint of an accent Zita hadn’t noticed before seeping into his voice.

She gave a small nod, still glaring daggers at her hands.

Kivvien chuckled, “It’s not your hands’ fault,” He said as they started walking again.

Zita turned her scowl on him. He put up his hands in surrender, “Hey, it took me months to get that spell! I didn’t expect you to get it on the first try,” Zita blushed and put her hands at her sides, a little embarrassed.

“Besides,” Kivvien continued, Zita noticed he talked with his hands, “it’s not like I’m the greatest teacher anyway,” Zita laughed a little with him at that and he nudged her shoulder, “We should get to the city in a few hours, I could show you a few mobile spells to practice?” Zita nodded and he showed her the motions, which she mimicked, though with more clumsy results. Soon enough the gorey pit they left behind was all but forgotten. Zita would later find it scary that Kivvien had roped her in so easily, that he had found it so simple to make her forget she should be afraid of him and get her laughing at his jokes and even cracking some of her own, minutes after she had witnessed him kill three people. Some people were powerful like that, Zita guessed, and that was scary.