Wielder

Chapter 17 - New Plans

Michael watched Alie carefully over the next few days. The battle in the Marketplace had changed her. She became more withdrawn. She smiled much less often. Several times, he caught her staring off into the jungle, back toward the acres of scorched earth, as if its memory haunted her.

   It unsettled him.

   It didn't help that they were low on food and had to eat mostly bananas and some other strange fruit that grew wildly nearby, or that the heat and humidity of the jungle seemed determined to boil him alive. At least they had found a source of fresh water, so all wasn't completely lost.

   He could forget about getting home, though. Even though they had no idea where they were, one thing they could say with certainty was that they were far, far away from Safeton.

   Even the usually cheery Darrel had lost the pep in his step. He often muttered to himself about losing his one chance at striking it rich, and having a "stupid conscience." Under different circumstances, Michael might have found a bit of humor in the thief's misery.

   At least they weren't dead, he reminded himself at least a dozen times a day. Or locked in prison.

   The small waterfall they'd discovered on the second day had been a welcome surprise. A unanimous vote decided that they would camp beside its waters, and no one had mentioned leaving since. Why would they? The waters were refreshing and cool, a sweet relief from the intoxicating heat. And what lay in wait for them if they left? More Evil? The mysterious and utterly terrifying Commander Sole? No one wanted anything to do with either of those any time soon.

   Forsaking propriety in favor of relief, they'd all stripped down to their underwear (though Alie had imagined herself a relatively modest swimsuit) and lounged in the pool at the waterfall's base. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that he was out on vacation with Alie and his family, off at some nice resort on a tropical island.

   Almost.

   One thing kept breaking the illusion: magic. Dozens of glistening butterflies, their wings doused in heavy coats of golden magic, constantly fluttered between the tree line and the water's edge. They kept their distance at first, hugging the branches higher up in the trees. But with a few admiring coos from Alie, they had ventured closer and closer over the past day. They seemed especially attracted to the Ultimate and the stone in Darrel's pack, refusing to leave either alone unless someone shooed them away.

   Alie said they must be the only bits of magic left in the world. She couldn't feel any more of it anywhere else.

   One of the butterflies rested atop Alie's damp head, contentedly perched with wings flat against her skull. It made her look like she wore some sort of gaudy hair accessory.

   Darrel tried for the tenth time to squirt it with water. But Alie lifted another imagined shield to block the water's path, protecting the butterfly's delicate wings.

   Her use of magic was greatly improving. She didn't even have to open her eyes anymore to know when Darrel tried to squirt her. Her awakened sixth sense creeped Michael out.

   "Leave it alone, Darrel," Alie warned patiently, like a mother gently correcting a child.

   "I wont hurt it," Darrel grinned. "It's just a little water."

   "It doesn't want to get wet," she informed.

   He rolled his eyes. "What, you talk to butterflies, now?"

   Alie tilted her head in thought. The butterfly atop her head barely twitched. "Not with words," she decided. "They talk with emotion."

   Michael lifted an eyebrow. Had he lost himself in his own thoughts and come back to hear Alie explaining the plot line to another one of her fantasy novels?