Aster Wood and the Blackburn Son by J B Cantwell Page B

his feet, seemed ready to fight.  
    “Kiron, what is going on here?” he asked with authority. His shirt was a bright orange, and around his head he wore a ringlet of purple flowers, remnants of Stonemore and in contrast to his demeanor. It was Finian, the drunken man from the tavern, now painfully sober.
    When Kiron didn’t answer the questions, I did.
    “It was an enchantment,” I said. “I came into town early this morning and was under the spell, too. Then I found Kiron.”
    “And just who are you? ” Finian asked, narrowing his eyes.
    “This is Aster Wood,” Kiron’s voice boomed, more authority in his tone than the other man could have hoped for in all his life. “Slayer of Cadoc and keeper of The Book of Leveling. He deserves your respect, all of you.”
    Finian looked back and forth between us, and I could tell he was still considering arguing further, but then Kiron went on.
    “This boy has done more for the Fold than any wizard known to us since Almara,” he said flatly. “And now he has saved all of our lives as well.”
    Kiron approached me then and held out his hand. I grabbed it and he hoisted me up to standing. I brushed some of the dirt and twigs off my clothes. But then I noticed that he was doing something strange. He had released my hand, but now stood before me, his palm up and outstretched, eyes downcast. I stepped back, confused. Then, I did what I thought he wanted, and I placed my hand in his, as if to shake it. Immediately he bowed his head. Then, he released me.
    Gasps came from several of the men.  
    “What was that?” I asked. But he ignored me.
    Then, one by one, each man in the group stood and did the same. Eight more hands were held out to me, eight heads were bowed. Finian was the last, and he came grudgingly. He thrust his palm out to me, glaring. I looked at Kiron, unsure, but he only nodded grimly. I took the man’s hand and he reluctantly bowed his head.
    When this curious ritual was through, Kiron clapped his hands together with a snap.  
    “We have work to do,” he said. “We have been under the sweet enchantment of Stonemore for too long. Now the enemy gathers his forces not far from here. They will attack, though we don’t know when.”
    “Attack?” Finian asked. “How do you know this?”
    “I saw them,” I said. “There are thousands of them.” Nine men stared, some unbelieving, some aghast. “And they have children with them.”
    “Children?” one of the oldest in the group asked. I turned to him.
    “Yes,” I said, happy that someone was focusing on this point, which to me was the most important part. “They’ve kidnapped at least a hundred young children and are forcing them to work in the army. The boy I met said he couldn’t leave because his little sister, who is only five, is being held captive by someone called the Coyle.” The thought of the Coyle brought a lump to my throat, not of tears but of bile. “We have to get them out.”
    The group suddenly erupted in conversation, opinions flying wildly and nobody listening to anybody.
    “Forget children,” one man said. “An army of thousands would obliterate the city.”
    “But we must release the children,” another said. “Of course we must. To do anything less would be a sin beyond all others.”
    “They’ve just been setting us up,” one said. “Gassing us with that foul air so that we’ll sit quietly for the slaughter.”
    “And what about the gold dust below the hold, Kiron?” said another more quietly, as if he weren’t sure if everyone else in the group knew of his secret. “What of that? We must retrieve it.”  
    At last, Kiron raised one hand into the air, and gradually the men fell silent. Then he looked pointedly at me.
    “We must decide how to move forward based on the new information Aster has brought us,” he said. “What can we do that will enable the use of the Book at the earliest opportunity?”
    “What is this book?” Finian spat.
    My chest felt