The Seer by Rowan McAllister (reading comprehension books .TXT) 📕

Despite the logic in his words, Ravi could admit to a surge relief and gratitude when Vic slid silently to the floor and scooted as close as he could to Ravi’s side without touching him. They sat that way in silence for a while. Eventually, Vic sighed, drawing Ravi’s attention back to him, and when Vic’s head tilted down, Ravi followed his gaze to the stylized owl inked into his own wrist, barely visibly beyond the frayed edges of his tunic.

His heart squeezed a little more for his friend. Vic’s life hadn’t exactly been blessed by the gods either. He may not have been cursed with magic, but he was Unnamed. He had no family to claim him, so Ravi’s family mark had always fascinated him. At one time, Ravi might’ve insisted that having a family mark hadn’t done him any favors, but that wasn’t exactly true. He’d had a loving childhood, before it all fell apart. He’d had a roof over his head, and he’d always known where his next meal was coming from. He’d had a life filled with laughter and books and love. That was a far sight more than many of the others in their ragtag little group could claim. He had no right to complain.

So much weight would fall on Vic’s thin shoulders once Ravi was gone. Even in the bitterest of winters, when work was scarce, Ravi’s ability to read and write had brought in enough coin or food in trade to keep the rest of them alive. He didn’t know what they’d do without that extra bit he was able to provide. But they were strong. They had to be, growing up in Arcadia. He needed to believe they’d manage without him. And maybe someday he’d find a way to send help back to them, or send for them to join him.

Chapter Three

DAKS TRIED very hard to ignore the pitiful duo curled up behind him as he stood watch at the opening. He had to wonder a little at their relationship, but it really wasn’t his business. Getting emotional had landed him in this mess to start with.

Do the job. Get out. That’s it.

He wouldn’t bother with self-recriminations. What was the point? Shura would take care of that the first chance she got, and probably from now until the end of his life. The “I told you so’s” would be legion. They would be written into the songs of her people and sung around campfires for centuries to come.

He couldn’t wait.

He rolled his shoulders and stifled a groan. Nothing beat waiting for a tongue-lashing when you knew you deserved it.

Another waft of fetid air from the tannery behind them made him force down a cough.

Shura, where are you? Hurry, please.

After what seemed an interminable wait, footsteps alerted him that someone approached. His heart kicked up, as another, heavier set joined the first. Without turning his head, he waved a hand behind him to catch his companions’ attention.

“Ravi?” someone hissed.

The voice belonged to the little girl, Sparrow, and Daks relaxed. He stood up and moved away from the opening as Shura squeezed inside behind Sparrow, dragging their packs. The little hovel was becoming crowded, but he’d never been so happy to see Shura’s scowling face. Though after only a single hard stare from her, his smile of relief and greeting fell, and he wisely kept his mouth clamped shut while she shoved the packs into a corner.

She glanced around at Sparrow, Ravi, and Vic before returning her gaze to Daks. “Your message was vague, to say the least, but I’m going to have to assume we’re meeting in this little part of Biton’s Hellcave because something terrible has happened,” she said in a deceptively even tone.

Might as well get it over with.

Daks cleared his throat. “I kind of stumbled on a gifted while I was just taking a midnight stroll to get some fresh air. And maybe that gifted was being tracked by a brother… and, uh, in the ensuing disagreement about which of us should be allowed to leave with the young man, I might have punched said brother in the face a couple of times.”

Shura blinked at him for a few seconds before she closed her eyes and her entire body slumped in resignation. She dragged a hand down her face and took a long breath. When she opened her eyes, she shot another brief glance at their companions before pinning him again. “We will have words about this later,” she promised as a muscle ticked next to her eye.

“I know,” he replied contritely.

“I’ve been looking for you since I returned to the room to find you gone. I’d only just returned to the inn when your messenger arrived.”

“I’m sorry.”

She sniffed. “Later. First, we must get out of the city, obviously.” She looked at the ragged trio again. “I assume we’re not leaving without at least one of these; otherwise you would have come to me at the weaver’s hall instead of forcing me to come to this horrid place.”

He winced. “Yes. The gifted is coming with us.” Daks took a deep breath before continuing, since he knew she was only going to get angrier with each word he said. “He’s a Seer.”

“So, no control over it whatsoever,” Shura finished for him, her voice getting quieter by the second.

“Yeah.” Daks swallowed. “And the brother was a Finder, so he’ll be out looking for any magical signature.” He waited a few beats, but when she only stared at him, Daks gathered his courage to throw the rest out there. “The brother had mercs out looking for us last night, so in addition to the King’s Guard and the Brotherhood, we might have some paid swords to deal with.”

“And there’s no chance of leaving the gifted?”

Daks winced but shook his head stubbornly. He couldn’t do it.

Her nostrils flared. “Is that all?”

“Uh, yeah. I think that about covers it.”

“And, I take it, this Finder saw your face?”

“It was night, but the moon was