Kira turned to look at the canyon. One hand clutched the necklace concealed under her tunic, a habit she did when her mind raced with uncertainty. Her thumb traced one of the jewels through the rough fabric. She sighed and turned away from the canyon to gather her bow and rejoin the horses.

                                          ***    ***   ***    ***

A wall of silence stayed wedged between Kira and Ry, they rode in a slow trot toward the Glades

A wall of silence stayed wedged between Kira and Ry, they rode in a slow trot toward the Glades. They had stopped for the final night at the border of home and the plains before continuing the final push. Ry continued to look behind them for guards sure to follow. He'd pulled his leather sheaths from his side satchel and strapped them across his back, keeping his weapons within easy reach. Black leather straps circled his chest and waist, holding the swords in place. Hilts bobbed with his movements, he bounced with the steps of his horse. Dirt paths merged with man-made cobblestone streets within the marshes of the Glades.

Kira's nerves raced as they passed through sugarcane fields. As often as Ry glanced behind them, Kira had just as frequently. Part of her expected guards to jump out of the shadows and arrest her on the spot. Despite reaching the safety of her home, those nerves continued to build within her. A knot lodged in her throat, half expecting the farmers to turn her in on sight. Men worked to harvest their crops, eyes lifting long enough to watch the pair pass. Some waved and greeted them while others simply returned to their harvest. Though she hadn't used the magic long, the fear someone saw plagued her.

"They're all dead. Anyone who could've seen the spell you cast back there is dead," Ry whispered. "Besides, you use the magic all the time around here, why so jumpy over this?"

"Because they're guards." She sighed. "It's one thing to do it in front of the simpletons of home, but in front of men who report directly to the king? That was stupid of me."

"Oh, but burning Amanda's hair at the Coming of Age dance wasn't stupid?"

Kira shrugged. "That was vindictive and cruel, borderline psychotic."

"No borderline about it."

Kira shot him a glare. His brown eyes sparkled under the setting sunlight along with the sweat glistening on his dark skin. He turned away from her to look forward. Thatched roof cottages lined the path, increasing in numbers until they reached the heart of the village. They didn't stop and exchange pleasantries with villagers, Kira lived on the outskirts of town. After a long journey Ry always insisted on seeing her home safely.

"I hate that stupid statue," she muttered as they rode past the stone carving of their king.

Ry laughed. "What, you don't like a statue of our rightful ruler watching our every move?"

When she cleared the sightline of the statue, she gazed up. Her eyes narrowed, she pulled on the reigns of the horse. One shaky hand rose to point at the tree line. Her stomach lurched as she swallowed, her throat suddenly parched, keeping her words from being set free. Ry turned his attention to where she pointed. Above the tree's rose the drifting streams of smoke from a fresh burning fire.

"What? I'm sure it's just the hearth."

Kira shook her head. She dug her heals into the side of the horse and galloped toward the smolder. Two houses were on that edge of the Glades, her home and one other. She knew neither had a hearth big enough to create the smoke blackening the sky. And Emma would never light a fire on a sunny day with no chill in the air.

Unease shook Kira's heart as she rode. Something was wrong and she didn't need a magic trance to know it.