“Open,” she commanded, hooking her fingers in strange, fluid formations. The locks around her feet clicked and fell. She stood, tossing her hair off her face.

“How do we get out?” she asked. Not a bit of gratitude revealed its presence in her voice.

“You did not need me to free yourself. Why do you need me now?” Already he felt foolish. He was no savior to this girl. At any time, she could have cast aside the chains that held her.

“I cannot walk through walls,” she replied. “Locks are a different matter. We can leave through the front entrance, but people will die.”

“They will hunt you if we do,” Qurrah said. “Give me your hand.”

“No.”

He took it anyway. She glared at him, her eyes bulging with anger, but the anger melted away. He held her hand so gently. Qurrah closed his eyes to think, and when he opened them again, Tessanna was blushing. He raised an eyebrow.

“Your hand is soft,” she said in a quiet, shy voice. Qurrah pretended not to notice.

“Follow me. My former master taught me this spell, but I have never used it before.”

“You’ll do fine,” she said. “I know it.”

He cast the spell. A black door formed against the wall, constructed of shadows and magic. They stepped inside, the door vanished, and then they were far away.

T he shadow door reopened inside a tiny, decrepit building. The two stepped out, the entrance scattering into nothingness behind them. Tessanna looked around, her arms wrapped across her chest. There was barely room for them to stand side by side.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Still in Veldaren,” Qurrah said. “This is where my brother and I used to live, before we were evicted and forced to travel to Woodhaven. It has long been abandoned.”

She looked away, her arms still wrapped tight about her body. “Why did you come? Good does not come from me, Qurrah Tun. It never has.”