His years of leaping and jumping paid off. Vir tore free of the man’s grip, and this time, he didn’t hesitate. He ducked and sprinted past him.
Neel ceased his barking and caught up. Together, the pair blitzed through the alley faster than ever before. Fear and the will to survive kept Vir running when he’d normally have collapsed from exhaustion. He took every turn he could to throw off his pursuer, doing everything he could to quiet his footsteps.
“Oh grak,” he muttered, realizing his mistake. In his desperation, he’d forgotten about his greatest advantage. Shaking his head, he jumped onto a box and reached for a horizontal pole.
For the second time that morning, he missed, but this time he managed to break his fall with a roll. Unfortunately, he rolled right into a clay urn, shattering it.
The sound felt like it carried through the entire village, and Vir froze, listening.
Clack, clack, clack. The cultist’s footsteps grew louder and louder.
Neel barked again, jolting Vir out of his freeze.
He tried again, throwing all he had into his legs. He caught the bar, then vaulted himself up onto a balcony and climbed up to a flat rooftop.
Let’s see if he can follow us here.
Vir didn’t stick around to find out. He leaped from rooftop to rooftop, gaining as much distance as he could, ignoring the new feelings that assaulted his thoughts. He stopped only when his body could go no farther.
Neel took a slightly different route, catching up with Vir in no time. Years of accompanying its master had taught the animal to climb up things—a feat that went unmatched by the other bandies.
Heaving on all fours against the rooftop, Vir took deep breaths to calm his racing heart. No matter how much he worked out, no matter how much effort he put in, his body remained frail, his stamina weak. Over the years, he’d concluded there was something wrong with his body. Like his energy was being drained, and it wasn’t just the single meal he ate each day.
Neel sat on his haunches, gloating, with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
Vir thought about descending and trying the heavy doors to the temple. They would be locked though. He’d never wished for the security of the holy place’s sturdy walls more than he did at that moment.
“Stay sharp, Neel. That man’s still out there,” Vir said to the bandy, wasting his breath—not like Neel could understand him.
Vir’s fingers grazed the white tattoo on his chest as he strained to listen to the echoes of the cultist’s footsteps.
What happened back there? he wondered. These new voices inside his head made no sense, but they couldn’t be meaningless. It was as if they were telling him something, except he hadn’t learned the language yet. Why now, of all times? Had the cultist done something to him?
No, this feeling came from my tattoo.
The cultist’s footsteps broke him out of his thoughts. Every time they grew louder, he readied himself to flee.
Neel continued to gloat.
“Sure, must’ve been easy for you,” he said, frowning at the droopy-looking bandy. “You’re not the one who can’t run thirty paces without keeling over. But see if the other kids can backflip like I can.”
Neel whimpered.
“Uh, huh. Thought so.”
Despite how hard he had to push himself, escaping from the cultist felt good. Maybe it was the thrill of the danger. Or maybe it was that flawless backflip he’d executed to free himself. He rarely ever got to experience that much action in their remote village. There was something else, too. Breaking free of the cultist’s clutches had felt easier than it ought to have. As if he’d been guided to the right pressure points on the man’s body. The only thing that had changed were the nonsensical voices in his head.
Is it somehow aiding me?
As his heartbeat slowed and the fear wore off, it struck Vir that he’d been in more danger than he thought. Who knew what the cultist would’ve done to him if he hadn’t broken free. Where would he have taken him? Would anyone have found him? The sweat on his back picked up the cool breeze, chilling him to his core.
If only I could get inside the temple, he thought. But the magic orb sealing those doors denied him entry. No amount of wishing and hoping would get him through. Only prana would solve that problem, and he had none… Yet.
Minutes passed in tense silence, where each second felt like an hour. As a precaution, Vir never stayed on the same rooftop for long. While the cultist didn’t seem able to climb onto rooftops, the man had an uncanny knack for following Vir around the village. His footsteps never fully faded, despite Vir’s actions.
It was only after Vir lobbed a rock as a decoy that the cultist’s footsteps finally died away. Vir waited several more minutes before he mustered the courage to drop back down to the street, warily sneaking over to the temple.
He regretted not waiting longer on the rooftops. Time passed with agonizing slowness, every rustle setting him on edge.
A familiar voice hailed him. “Ho, Vir! You’re here early this morning. Tis only to be expected, I suppose, what with it being your big day and all.”
Head priest Apramor arrived with his tall, redheaded wife, Lady Aliscia.
“Good morning, sir,” said Vir to the slender figure in priestly robes. Relief washed over him, even as Apramor’s words made the knot in his stomach tighten. He’d almost forgotten about the magic test.
While her husband moved to unlock the temple door, Aliscia spoke up. “Good morning, Vir. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long? You look tired.”
“Actually I, er, had an encounter with someone on the way here… a Child of Ash. He chased me through the alleys, but I got away… I think,” he said, staring at the dark alley in the distance. Vir neglected to mention the new voices in his head. No reason to alarm them until he knew exactly what he was dealing with.
Both Aliscia and Apramor froze, the priest turning, meeting Vir’s eye, all joviality missing from his expression. “Tell us everything.”
Vir summarized his story, mentioning how he met the cultist, the tussle he got into, and his escape. He’d commuted to the temple thousands of times in the past. He knew every rooftop, every back alley. Every ledge he could use to vault… but now, his village suddenly felt a little less familiar than it had when he’d woken up this morning.
“I’ll inform the guards. I am truly impressed that you escaped unscathed. The Children are a powerful order. They are not to be trifled with. I promise you we will deal with this man immediately.”
“Thank you, sir,” Vir said with a satisfied smile. Despite his abysmal stamina, he’d prevailed over the fearsome cultist. Rudvik would be so proud when he told him.
“Where’s Maiya?” Vir asked, trying to distract himself from the creepy cultist.
Apramor chuckled. “Where else? In her comfortable bed, of course.”
Vir’s expression fell. His best friend was never up at this hour, but he’d hoped she could manage it just for today.
The head priest clasped his hands together in prayer and gazed up at the starry night, his face etched in a perfect picture of devotion. “Only Lord Janak himself could raise her at such an early hour. Ooh Janak! Ooh Adinat! Would you please—Ouch!”
Aliscia delivered a swift kick to her husband’s shin, sending him hopping in pain. “Dear, that’s hardly fair to our daughter,” she said, giving Vir a sidelong glance.
Vir took the hint. “Ah, that was my fault, sir. Maiya was up late helping me with the writing lessons Lady Aliscia assigned me.”