Hidden Power by Tracy Lane Page A

early afternoon light occasionally piercing the dense forest as she struggled to find her way to the cabin of her father’s friend, Lutheran, while the day was still young. Mage or no mage, squires or no handsome squires, she didn’t want to be in these woods any longer than she had to. 
    Beneath her, Boer strode clumsily through the uneven forest. She patted him gently, guiding him onward, whispering encouragingly in his ear. The steed was frazzled, and she knew just how he felt. Aurora’s heart still pounded from her visit to Ythulia. Behind them, the little Nayer stumbled along on its four hooves.
    She could still feel the crystal floors beneath her feet, hear the echoes of her leather shoes in her ears, and blushed to think of Kayne in his striking white robe with golden threads and sagging hood. He looked so regal, so young, so… handsome.
    She rarely had time to think of boys, and few at her place of learning warranted much thought in the first place. She was deeply smitten by Conner Griffith, who was a year above her in Learning and barely knew her name. 
    Not much to think about there.
    Then there was Zacharia, the farm boy she’d dated last harvest, but they’d barely kissed and he’d always smelled like root vegetables. Plus, he’d thrown her over for Grimelda Hopper, so there hadn’t been much to think about there!
    Of course, there wasn’t much to think about here, either. Kayne was a squire; a mage in training. He wore soft sandals and a flowing white cloak embroidered with gold thread and lived in a crystal tower, far away from where most could see. 
    He would spend his life protecting the planet of Synurgus from the dark forces that prowled the universe, eager for her planet’s rich store of resources, its gems and riches and soil and water and air and land.  
    His future had been decided the day he entered the Crystal Car and ridden it all the way up to the top, and hers was no less definite. Aurora would go to the Learning Place until her eighteenth year, then either find a mate whose farm she would help run, or help run her father’s farm until he and mother were too old to run it themselves; then it would become hers.
    Either way, this was probably the first and last time she’d ever see Kayne. Might as well—
    A sound in the brush made Boer stop in all six of his tracks as Aurora herself craned her neck to find its source, the leather saddle beneath her creaking with every movement. They were still in the Wandering Woods, the light dimmer now, the sky overcast and crowded with a thousand trees, each more sinister and gnarled than the next. 
    The Nayer ground its front hooves into the rich, black dirt and flared its nostrils. Aurora slid from Boer, reaching for the knife that hung in a homemade sheath from around her waist. Her new leather jacket creaked with the movement as she stood between the animals, peering into the near darkness of the brush, looking for danger.
    The brush exploded in a flurry of color as three Wingers took to the sky, gnarled beaks yellow and hooked, blue and green and violet wings flapping as they soared just above Boer’s ears.
    The steed whinnied and the Nayer bolted, rushing to the left. Its rope dragged along the ground and she reached for it, desperately, but only caught up at the last moment. With the frayed end of the rope just out of reach, the Nayer dashed and disappeared, scattering leaves and brush as it made its wild escape.
    Boer snorted, perhaps out of relief. Aurora turned back, shoulders slumped in defeat. She was suddenly tired, not up to the challenge of hunting down the stray Nayer. 
    “Guess it’s just you and me, Boer,” she said, patting the long, brown neck of her loyal steed and walking him toward the edge of the Wandering Wood. The day was waning, and she still had to find her father’s friend’s cabin before dark.

11

    Hilliard Turnleaf looked up from his morning tilling at the sound of a steed’s advance. “Aurora!” he cried,