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politics was not. Path
twitched next to him. Her dark brown, fluffy fur shifted in the
wind, changing the cream path that ran from the top of her tail,
under her belly, and up again to her left ear. She glanced at him
and then turned away. He could bind and change the very fabric of
cambire atoms but he could not energize what he created. Only
O’rah, the Magnifier, had the ability to do that. Beautiful,
beautiful, O’rah. There she was, wasting away in the stupid Trinity
pit under the sweaty, beefy body of the gargoyle, Gareth.
    He sighed and created a shield to protect him
and Path from the drizzle of rain that began to fall. With O’rah at
his side he might have shielded the entire forest around him. So
what that the rain was welcome by thirsty plants and animals! He
was feeling melodramatic and because of this, practicalities were
superfluous.
    “Oh Paris, dear?” The silvery voice of O’rah
intruded upon his thoughts as he and Path sat on the mossy log. His
romantic ideas died in an instant at her sneaky tone. He had to
admit, he was in love with the idea of O’rah, not of O’rah
herself.
    “What?”
    “Did you forget something before you so
precipitously left us?”
    He made a face but replied sweetly, “I don’t
think so.”
    “Let me just tell you then that Harro, that
ineffectual, made Jesta a rather unusual spell for her
birthday—”
    He tried not groan mentally as he remembered
the Assembly member’s daughter.
    “—I won’t go into details dear, since you
obviously felt the need to divorce yourself from us. Her nose just
hasn’t looked the same since the ... um ... incident. But I’m sure
you’re not that interested in the pesky details and that all the
Assembly is in an uproar and furious. And by the way, give my
regards to the Assembly member Jarson when he hunts you down.” Her
false tinkling laughter resounded in his head.
    “Funny how Gareth made sure the spell stuck
though.”
    Silence met that observation.
    “He was—”
    He cut her short not wanting to hear the
excuse and sent her a jolt. At her screech he broke contact
quickly. He could use her ability to magnify at any level of
contact, no doubt it was why she hadn’t contacted him earlier but
she obviously felt it worth the risk to threaten him. But she had
also warned him.
    The drizzle stopped and he realized during
the conversation his umbrella had expanded with O’rah’s innate
abilities. That made it even more maddening. O’rah didn’t actually
train; her abilities were completely inherent. It was Paris who
worked at the actual spell, creating it, molding it and delivering
it. Gareth just held the spell in place until the job was done.
    He looked at Path who ignored him. “You’ve
joined a renegade. Let’s go.”
    He sat the pack on the log, shoved his arms
back in and heaved up stumbling forwards. Path jumped off the log
and headed in the opposite direction to where he wanted to go.
    “Path? Path?” Paris called.
    With her tail straight up she disappeared
into the glistening leaves now dripping water in the dying light.
He spotted her tail now and then through the foliage.
    He called one more time. There was no
response.
    “Traitor.” He kicked at a stick feeling
irrational. The first few steps saw Paris trying to dislodge the
stick from his pants without bending over. Once free he began
walking with purpose for all of a few minutes until again, the pack
won the day. He knew where there was a cabin and an insane woodsman
nearby. A simple spell would put the man to sleep. Now that he knew
O’rah located him he might as well be comfortable.
    For that matter … he stopped walking and used
a little spell. With a much lighter pack he almost ran down the
track.
     
    Paris was determined after a good night
sleep, and after plugging up the old man's mouth with a muffler, he
would find out why his magic was restricted. Now that he was away
from the stupid Trinity pit he found his mind awash with childhood
memories. He