Her First Mistake

Chapter Twenty-Nine: I'd Throw You Across the Gulf of Mexico

   We'd been walking for a little while. The crythal slunk along in the trees nearby, but never quite visible. I occasionally heard the clink of the crystals close by. Tate helped knock things out of my way, and after noticing how his gait seemed familiar, I remarked, "I saw the stance you took when that thing divebombed you. You know how to fight? Boxing or martial arts?"

   Tate nodded. "A mix of both specific to Enforcers. Not quite a martial art though."

   I'd never heard of Enforcers. I glanced his way, confused. "Enforcers?"

   He stumbled a little over his feet and looked over his shoulder. His eyebrows were creased. "You don't know what an Enforcer is?"

   "I grew up sheltered, okay?" I muttered, irritated.

   "Erm, they're like the army of the magick world. They make sure that all magic is kept hidden and enforce the Council's laws. They protect the public and make sure that everything remains peaceful."

   "And you're one of these people?"

   He shook his head. "No. I haven't finished my training. I was thrown in here three weeks before I graduated from the training camp. I'm still a trainee." I nodded slightly, distracted as I flexed my arm, the elbow starting to get sore from how I was holding it. Any tugging on the skin made the slashes through the muscle ache.

   I had nibbled on some of my rations through the day. As the sun began to dip towards the horizon, I knew I had to stop soon. Finally reaching a good enough tree to climb, I halted. "I'm done for the day." We stood in a small clearing beside a lake. The water lapped up the rocks about thirty feet away from the large tree. The sun glimmered off of the lake.

   Tate glanced forward before agreeing. I wedged the staff into the tree and hauled myself up. Sitting down was a relief as the weight left my leg. Blood had seeped through the bandages at this point, but I didn't have any more to replace the dirty ones with. Dangling my leg, I leaned my back against the trunk and blew out a breath.

   "How's your leg?" Tate asked. He reached up and grabbed a different branch, hauling himself up easily. I gave him the stink-eye for the display of his obvious strength.

   "'Bout as good as expected."

    "Have you cleaned it out?"

   I shook my head. "It never touched anything besides water. As long as it doesn't get infected, I should be okay."

   Tate nodded, sitting down and rubbing his foot. "If you were in the Mortal Realm, I'd worry about contaminants in the water."

   That was a good point. Florida water was terrible. I shivered at the thought and leaned my head back. I was utterly exhausted and it had only been a day and a half since I'd been in here. I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand it.

   The night was long. Tate seemed to fall asleep pretty easily, snoring softly from his branch. He sat with his back against the trunk, his knee up, and his arm across it. I couldn't really sleep, but I did my best to doze. Every time a cicada chirped or the crythal below clinked I snapped awake. I wasn't very rested once the sun began to rise.

   Tate awoke before I decided to move. I heard his back hit the trunk as he stretched. There was a second as his clothes ruffled and shifted. I held still, confused, as I tried to determine what he was doing. It took me a moment to realize that my bag -- hanging from the side of the branch -- had stopped swinging. I couldn't hear the clinking of the clips.

   At the faint crinkle of plastic, I realized what was happening. Tate was rifling through my stuff. I'd already given him a bottle of water and a portion of jerky, so he had no excuse for this. I cracked my eye open to watch. Tate was leaning precariously around the trunk. He was so focused on the bag that he didn't realize I was awake.

   Finally, I saw him pull out a whole pack of jerky. It crinkled and he froze, looking around warily. Indignation rose. Did he seriously think he could go through my stuff -- take my food -- and I wouldn't care? After all that talk of not being a traitor, he sure seemed like one.

   My fingers clenched my staff. I'd been able to conjure my magic, and I knew it was possible. Almost agonizing to do, but possible. Focusing carefully, I created a loop and silently hooked it around Tate's ankle. He was too busy trying to figure out where to put the bag to climb down to see as I shifted my position, made sure my concentration was firm, and lashed out.

   My good foot slammed into his stomach. A yelp shot from his throat as he slipped off of the branch. His whole body jerked as the rope caught his ankle and kept him suspended. The sleeping crythal below us awoke with a surprised snarl.

   I leaned over the branch, seething. "Really, Tate? Really?"

   He looked up at his ankle. Red magic held a carefully thin line around it, digging into his skin. Blood rushed into his face. "How did you use magic in here?!"

   "Be glad I can't do much else," I snapped at him, crossing my arms. "Otherwise I'd throw you across the Gulf of Mexico. Did you seriously think you could get away with it?"

   "With what?"

   "Stealing my stuff!" I waved my bag. "I'm not stupid. You have a whole pack of my food. So who are you really, Tate? What do you want? Did Dani send you after me?"

   Sensing my anger, the crythal started to circle below Tate. The shapeshifter looked down and back up, his face getting redder and redder. "What are you talking about? I didn't steal anything! I told you I needed the meat to keep the raviers busy while I looked for a mahogany branch. I told you yesterday and you said it was fine! And what do you mean, did Dani send me after you?" 

   Oh, no. I hesitated. Tate had asked me something about the meat yesterday. I'd been too distracted to really listen. The confusion in his voice said bounds about his honesty. I gritted my teeth. Come on, Roxie. Quit being so impulsive. It's going to kick my ass.

   "Roxie, what did you mean about Dani?" 

   I released the rope instead of answering. Tate fell to the ground in a heap. He wasted no time in standing up and looking at me, his eyes narrowing. "Why would Dani be after you?"

   "That's not your business, Tate."

   His eyes drifted to my bandaged arm, where a sliver of the tattoo peeked out. My jaw clenched slightly, but I didn't move my arm out of sight. My brown gaze bored into his face, daring him to comment. Tate seemed to sense he was treading thinning ice and looked down to swipe some grass off of his clothes. The subject dropped.

   After a minute, Tate cleared his throat. "It will only take me a few minutes to find the mahogany grove. I likely won't be able to shift, so it will take me a few hours to figure out how to break you a branch. The flight back should be about an hour."

   "So you will be back by the end of the day."

   Tate nodded. "I should. If two days pass, that means something went wrong. Don't wait any longer than forty-eight hours."

   I exhaled. "Okay." I found myself not fearing that he'd leave for good. The complete shock and confusion on his face when I'd demanded if he was a traitor seemed genuine. I had yet to meet such a convincing actor. I'd be more surprised if he left than if he didn't. 

   Tate closed his eyes. His skin began to ripple and I turned my eyes away, retching as his bones cracked beneath the tree. That couldn't feel good. After the sounds subsided, I looked back down. A large eagle shook out his feathers, sharp grey eyes surveying himself. Tate looked up and his beak clicked.

   "That's trippy," I muttered. Five months ago, I would have thought I was going insane. Now, I just knew that I was mildly crazy, even though the bird was real.

   His large wings spread. Tate lifted off of the ground almost heavily. It didn't take long for him to disappear over the trees. I leaned back against the tree trunk, blowing out my cheeks. The faint chiming of crystal announced the return of the crythal. He sat down at the base of the tree. I picked up that he was still salty about Tate divebombing him earlier. 

   Well, I had a day to sit in a tree and let my leg rest. I wasn't going to complain.

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