Crimson Guard Read online

  Prologue

  The sun sizzled high in the sky and heated the sandstone floor to uncomfortable temperatures, making me ache for actual shoes rather than the tats and rags that I wore on my feet. Not a single cloud passed to give any respite, so I lurked in the shadows to escape the uncomfortable heat and waited for my mark to appear.

  He had looked like an easy victim, a small frail older gentleman with kind eyes, almost as brown as an oak tree, and a smile that was full of mischief. As though my thoughts summoned him, he materialized and walked through the market with his shuffling gait, weaving between the crowds, talking to shop owners and negotiating deals for food and necessities.

  I'd been watching him for weeks. From what I saw he was a compassionate old man. He regularly gave coppers to homeless children when he passed them, occasionally even giving out food like loaves of bread and apples. Sadly I wasn't one of the lucky few who received his generosity. My caution and wariness of strangers kept me away.

  But I had gotten to the point where I was desperate. It had been six days since I had any food, my stomach was churning with only my stomach acid to keep it full. I didn't want to steal, but I couldn't stand the bone-deep hunger anymore.

  I kept a distance, making sure to stay out of sight from the bustling crowd but reached within myself to that spark that made me different from every other orphan on the street.

  I allowed the small rush of power to tingle into my features. I felt my skin ripple as I darted between shadows.

  Blonde long thick hair, snub-nosed and hazel eyes turned to a copper corkscrewed bob, white freckled face with large grey eyes and a full mouth. I trailed a distance away from him, trying to act natural, as though I was on a stroll. I slipped past an animated mass of people haggling with a meat monger, their roaring offers to the merchant getting louder and louder.

  I started to continue stalking my mark, his bobbing head getting lost in the swarm when I realised the throng of people offered a better opportunity.

  Slowing in my pursuit, I casually grazed against a patron, swiftly slipping a hand into their pocket, drawing a few coins. Weaving my way to the other side of the crowd, I smiled as the man continued haggling, unaware of the small theft. Perfect.

  Pushing my luck, I snuck up to another unsuspecting customer, a straight spined female. Making sure not to draw their attention, I reached up into her bag. Carefully, I pulled back the lid, spying a purse within. I quickly assessed the woman, making sure her attention was diverted. I palmed the small bag full of money, turning to make my escape.

  Only to run straight into a guard. His giant hands grabbed my small, fragile arms in a painful grip. Looking up in shock, I gasped. I had never been caught in all my years on the streets, nor my eleven years of existence. I felt my face change and expose my natural features as I was frozen in horror. The vivid turquoise colour of eyes screaming to all what I was.

  The guard's deep-set eyes indigo eyes lit up at the slight. I felt a small zap of his power zing through me.

  No, he's one of the testing soldiers! I squirmed in his hold.

  Anger turned to shocked glee as he looked me over and he breathed out, "Cerulean."

  I struggled against him, pulling with all my might against his grip. "No! Let me go!"

  He yanked me toward him, "No testing needed for you Illusionist." He remarked, dragging me behind him, "Quite powerful too. You'll be a great help to the war effort."

  I shook my head at the words. No! I didn't want to be a soldier in the war. I didn't want to die!

  I focused on my powers, reaching within me. I allowed a spindle of energy into my hand, shifting it until it grew. Until it was giant in size. The guard stopped in his tracks, turning to look at me. Not taking one moment to hesitate, I yanked. The shock of the change in shape and force caused him to sputter and release his grip.

  Free from capture, I dove into the shadows. Changing my appearance and sticking to the darkness I fled. I darted through alleyways, weaving through the maze of streets until my lungs burned. I finally looked back. Seeing nothing but still shadows and cobbled stone walls, I gave myself a moment to recover.

  That was close, too close.

  Panting, I leaned back against the brick wall of the alleyway. From the corner of my eye, I caught a familiar shuffling gait. The old man, my original mark, made his way down the street, politely nodding to pedestrians.

  I stayed where I was, debating. Should I stick to my original plan? I looked down at the small handful of coins I managed to hold on to. Ten coppers. Just enough to survive the week. I looked back at the old man. But if I took the opportunity that he presented me with now...I could survive for the next two weeks. My stomach released another roaring gurgle, making my mind up for me.

  After all, I was now on the other side of the city. The guard would be far behind me now.

  I awaited in the shadows as the old man plodded his way towards me. Keeping hidden until I was less than a hair away from him, I walked from my hiding spot. Again, I carelessly strode behind him and give him a casual graze. I reached into his pocket, finding a pouch of coins.

  I had managed to grab a small handful without making a sound, a small thrill running through me at my perceived success. Internally I thought of all the food I would buy, already tasting the flavourful loaf I had been drooling over hours before. Maybe I would even buy a book to teach me to read!

  A small part of my conscience tugged at me, reminding me about the others in the street -orphaned and homeless like me- but I pushed that niggling voice away. No one else offered me any food. In the streets, it was a dog eat dog world.

  I quietly turned and just about to leave. Quick as a snake, the old man grabbed my wrist and held me immobile. The shock of the movement caused me to lose my grip on my gift. The deep black curls and chocolate eyes I had been masquerading in disappeared to show my natural face once more.

  Not again.

  Oak brown eyes stared into mine, eyebrows raised in complete surprise.

  "It can't be," he gasped.

  Looking left to right, he made sure no one paid any attention to us, "Come with me," he demanded, dragging me forward.

  A vital rule of the streets, never let a stranger take you to a second location.

  Desperate to escape I immediately lashed out. I kicked him with all my might. The old man dodge. Too slow. Undeterred I tried again, this time connecting a blow to his legs. Instead of dropping me, he only issued small sounds of pain. I punched at his frail forearm, aiming for his reflexes. But still, his iron grip was strong, unyielding in complete contrast with how frail he looked.

  He continued to pull me down the street, aiming towards a rugged, old shop.

  I renewed my struggle. I screamed whilst digging my heels into the floor. No one came to my defense. Just another street rat getting what the deserved.

  My weak, undernourished body was no competition for a grown man. My internal power near exhausted after my last encounter.

  When he reached the door to a run-down shop, I knew I lost.

  He yanked me inside and quietly closed the door again. Terror twisted within me. My power flared, a show of faces flickering over my features. Each one contorted with fear.

  He had me. What was he going to do next?

  "As interesting as it is to see so many different faces on one person, please calm yourself." He locked the door and let go of my wrist.

  "Take a seat. I'll get you a drink." He walked me towards a small table and chairs.

  I stood frozen, not willing to move. But my eyes trailed around the contents of the store. All I could see was a small crowded hovel, filled with clutter. I stayed where he left me, not wanting to bring any attention to myself and tried to plan a way out.

  He slowly
shuffled around a corner until he was out of sight. I bolted upright, just as he returned to the room with two plates with sliced bread and cheese on them.

  Seeing them I stopped and hesitated as he placed both plates on the table. He turned back around the corner and came back with a small cup and sat down.

  "There now, tuck in. Have some food. You're looking a little undernourished."

  I just stared at him, terrified. He may have looked like a kind man on the streets but I didn't know him. Just because he hasn't harmed me doesn't mean he wouldn't.

  He stared at me a little longer and when I stayed silent, unmoving. He let out a small smile and gave a little huff.

  "I suppose I can understand why you are refusing to talk." He murmured whilst fiddling with his food, "Being dragged into a strange place with a strange old man...I can understand your terror."

  He took a small bite of his food, studying me. Taking a swallow, he continued, "How about we introduce ourselves first. My name is Tawney. I own this shop, as run-down and as small as it is." He nodded toward the wreck that he called a store, "What's your name?"

  I looked around the room, shocked it was a shop. Tawney cleared his throat when it seemed I was too busy looking around the room to respond to him, a polite reminder that he had asked a question.

  I turned my gaze back to him, not willing to answer him.

  "Do you know anything about the power you possess?" he kindly asked.

  I studied at him, unsure of what to reply. He had clearly seen me shifting into my other forms so I couldn't deny my power. But did I trust him enough to speak to him about my abilities? No.

  "Ah. Not willing to talk yet? I understand." He tilted his head as though he was trying to figure out a puzzle, took his food from his plate and started eating whilst looking lost in thought.

  I watched until he was nearly finished, eyeing every bite as my mouth salivated and my stomach gave a loud grumble. My hunger finally got the better of me and I reached out for the bread whilst surveying Tawney in case he made any sudden movements.

  But he didn't, just carried on eating until he was on his last bite. So I took my first bite and my eyes almost rolled into the back of my head in delight. It had been years since I had cheese, a luxury that was so incredibly rare. It seemed very odd that this old man in a tiny shack of a house would be able to afford cheese. Yes, an oddity but not one I would question.

  After swallowing my last bite, I looked at him and quietly said, "Name's Fawn."

  He watched me eat with a look of pity and met my eyes when I told him my name.

  He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. The pain on his face made the last bite I'd swallowed catch in my throat. My hand twitched, wanting to reach out to him, but I didn't dare move from my spot.

  "Nice to meet you Fawn." He opened his eyes which glistened with water and smiled at me. "I imagine you haven't had much food for a while."

  I shook my head.

  "A girl as young as you should be eating twice as much as this a day. Minimum."

  I waited for him to say something else but he seemed to be musing over something.

  While he thought, I watched him. His face was lined with age but around his eyes were smile lines, lines of a face that laughed often and it gave a sense of trust. But his eyes were filled with intelligence, and as I examined him, he was studying me back.

  "Is this your true face?"

  I slowly shook my head. Surely he knew that, he had seen the face I had changed into when he caught me and it wasn't this one.

  "Would you show me?"

  I glared at him. I forgot my own face years ago. Only moments of terror or when my power slipped did I slip back into my natural features. Sadly there was never a mirror around to memorize it. Either way, I would have been unwilling to show this stranger my true face, even if he gave me food.

  "Okay. Do you know your parents?"

  "No."

  He gave a faint nod as if this was unsurprising and I guess with the ongoing war it wasn't out of the ordinary these days.

  "When did you first discover your talent?"

  His questions puzzled me, "Been able ta do it for as long as I r'member."

  Both his eyebrows raised in surprise, but as much as I wanted to ask him why, I couldn't bring myself to.

  "How old are you, Fawn?" He asked me gently.

  I caught his eye, hesitating, but I couldn't resist answering, "Eleven."

  "Oh. Soon to be a teenager then."

  I shrugged my shoulders. "I s'pose so."

  "And how long have you been on the streets for, Fawn?"

  I leaned back in my chair, thinking back. It wasn't as though I had a way of telling how much time had passed except for counting the seasons. "Bout five winters."

  His face crinkled, concern spreading across his appearance. "So long for a child to live on the streets. A harsh survival. And no one to look after you."

  I looked away, wanting to avoid his concern but yet wanting to bask in it, wail my despair.

  "Do you know much about your magic, Fawn?" He asked.

  I shook my head, gazing into my hands.

  "Not all humans can create magic as I'm sure you know. But some can, these humans can be Shielders, Illusionists, Titans, Enchanters, and the other least known powers...like Mentalist...Mimics, like you. These special people are called Ceruleans, for their blue eye colour."

  I lifted my head and looked at him, trying not to let on how interested I was in this information but enchanted at the same time. There was more magic in the world? I wasn't alone?

  "Most Ceruleans are from specific families, although some have been known to pop up in the general populous. However, the last known Mimic was seen 50 years ago."

  He studied me, before giving himself a slight nod, as though he had come to some sort of conclusion.

  "Fawn... I have a proposal for you."

  I tensed, unsure where this was going.

  "I have certain jobs that need to be done, ones that I cannot fulfill. I can pay you coin, food and educate you in exchange for these jobs being completed." He leaned back in his chair and waited for my response.

  I backed up a couple more steps, "I ain't whorin-"

  His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock, "No, no, no, that isn't what I meant at all!"

  I stopped and tilted my head at him, not sure what he could possibly mean.

  "Your skills as a pickpocket and a Mimic would be very useful for my ... store. I have clients asking for specific items, items that you should be able to retrieve with enough training and education. I can save you from the testing soldiers, keep you safe. From them and the streets."

  I froze, unsure if that was a hint that he was going to call these soldiers. That he would trap me here until they came if I refused. I waited, seeing if he was going to say anything else but he didn't and I slowly started to relax.

  "No one should live like you have Fawn, let me help," he pleaded.

  I tried to sort through what he said to me, trying to understand what he meant and what he was getting out of it. He seemed to recognise that I was a bit out of my depth with this decision.

  "How about I let you think about it and if you would like to become my...let's call it apprentice. If you come back tomorrow, then we can make arrangements. If you don't, then I will take it that you would prefer to stay on the streets."

  I nodded at him, my mind swarming with doubts, excitement, and confusion. Tawney walked to the door, unlocked it and opened it for me.

  "Go home, wherever that is, and think about it. I'll be here waiting."

  I swept through the door before he could finish the sentence, darting back into the shadows and weaving through the alleyways. With every shadow I stepped in I morphed into another form, covering my tracks in case he decided to follow me.

  Sure he had been kind, but he was still a stranger and giving me food didn't make me instantly trust him.

  When I realis
ed I wasn't being followed, I walked back to the abandoned house where I was staying that week. With so many orphans on the streets, we were constantly moved on from buildings like stray cats. But I managed to find a treasure, hidden in a labyrinth of alleyways away from any main street and riff-raff. It may have been tiny but for just me, it was perfect, for the moment.

  Climbing up the old, stained wooden planks into the dusty attic of the derelict building, I listened out for any movement. Monitoring my surroundings had saved my hide more than once and I held myself still until I was satisfied I was safe.

  Huffing in relief, I sat down on the floor near the blankets I managed to pile together to make a bed and thought back over what had just happened.