Flynn raced down the alleys between warehouses without looking back. He was several blocks away before he realized the man he’d rescued was running beside him. He did a double take, nearly crashing into the wall of an abandoned building.

  “Do you know of a good place we can hide?” the man asked, grabbing Flynn by the arm and pulling him upright and away from the building.

  Flynn stared at the man, his mind still reeling at what had just happened. He looked nervously down the alley they had just run through, but no one was following them. At least, no one he could see. He nodded to the rescued prisoner. “Yeah, follow me. We’ll be safe if we can get there.”

  The man nodded and motioned for Flynn to lead the way. “Just don’t use any card magic. Once we get into the city, they won’t be able to find us if we don’t use any magic.”

  Flynn nodded, a goofy grin splitting his face. I have card magic now!

  Then he shook his head. A lot of good it will do me if I wind up dead.

  “Come on, let’s go!” the rescued prisoner urged.

  “Alright, follow me.”

  Flynn took off toward the center of the city, the man following closely behind.

  The pair emerged from the warehouse district a few minutes later and dove right into the city proper. Flynn took a long and winding route, constantly looking over his shoulder. He never saw any signs of pursuit, and by the time they arrived at the abandoned cobbler’s shop he called home, he was certain no one had followed him.

  He led the man he’d just rescued around to the back side of the building and carefully opened the door to let him in. The inside of the shop was messy, and there was nothing of obvious value visible. Anyone who might look through the boarded up front door or window would assume the shop had been completely abandoned and thoroughly ransacked. Flynn had very carefully staged it that way so that it was as unappealing as possible to robbers—or other potential squatters.

  He led the man upstairs to the space above the shop that he called home. The room was as large as the shop below and had been partitioned into several rooms when he’d first found it. Flynn had taken it upon himself to knock down several of those walls to turn the loft into the large open space it now was. In retrospect, he wasn’t sure if that was something that he should have done because the roof sagged way more than it used to before the renovation.

  It's still better than any place I have a right to live in, he insisted.

  Flynn smiled as he looked around his home, his eyes lingering on the back of the room. The wall was covered in “monster” skins, though very few of them had produced a card fragment.

  “That’s quite a collection,” the man said. “I knew you had the look of someone who could handle himself around monsters.”

  Flynn looked at his feet and shrugged. “Most of those are just large rodents. Of course, I didn’t know that until after I’d killed them and didn’t get a fragment.”

  The man nodded. “Ah yes, the pitfalls of the early adventuring days. I’m glad your persistence finally paid off.”

  “Hmph.” Flynn grunted, questioning how much his hard work had really paid off. He possessed a card that he didn’t want and had somehow gotten himself involved with some very powerful bad guys.

  Ones with head tattoos!

  Flynn felt his chest tighten, and he shivered. What have I gotten myself into?!

  It was widely known that head tattoos granted incredible power. It was also widely known that head tattoos led to violent insanity.

  A hand on his arm pulled Flynn from his spiral into despair.

  “Thank you for saving me,” the man said, a genuine smile on his face. “You have no idea how big of a service you did for me.”

  Flynn forced a smile. “Yeah, I guess I probably saved your life.”

  “You did more than that,” the man said solemnly.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  What could be more than saving a life? Flynn wondered but didn’t ask. Instead, he asked, “Who were those people?”

  The man shook his head. “You don’t want to know. The less you know, the better, actually.”

  Flynn could see the wisdom in that statement, but it only made him more curious. He eventually nodded and said, “Yeah, it’s probably best that I don’t get any further involved in whatever business you’re tied up in.”

  “That’s true, but I’m afraid I need your help some more.”

  Flynn frowned at the man but then sighed. “What do you need me to do?”

  The man smiled and held up his hands. “I need to get these bands off.”

  He shook his hands, and the gold bands jingled. He then pointed at the gold band around his neck. “And this.”

  “Okay. Why don’t you just take them off?”

  “If it was that easy, don’t you think I would have done it already?”

  Flynn shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know you that well. Or at all. You might not be very smart.”

  “Alright, that’s fair,” the man admitted. “I did get captured, so maybe I’m not as smart as I think I am.”

  Flynn was glad the man didn’t take offense. His mouth had gotten him into trouble before, and despite the man’s recent capture, he was more powerful than the young man with only a single noncombat card.

  The rescued prisoner motioned at the bracelets and collar again. “These are enchanted to block card-based magical abilities. They can only be safely removed by the person who put them on.”

  “Clearly you don’t think I’m the one who put them on you,” Flynn said with a not small amount of sarcasm.

  “Of course not, but hopefully, you have something that can cut them off.”

  “I thought you said they could only be safely removed by the person who put them on you.”

  The man smirked. “Safely is a relative term.”

  I’m not sure that’s how it works, but as long as it’s his safety and not mine, who am I to judge? Flynn thought

  “So, do you have anything that might be able to cut them off?” the man prompted.

  “I’ve got some leather shears that were left downstairs when I . . . uh . . . moved in.”

  “Those might work. Go get them.”

  Flynn hurried to the back of the room where he had a box full of old shoe-making supplies. The shears were sitting on top since he used them fairly frequently. He grabbed them and returned to find the man sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, eyes closed, and hands resting on his knees.

  He opened his eyes when Flynn returned. “Okay, if this works, there will be significant magical backlash. I should be the focal point of that magical surge and will likely wind up with some severe burns on my arms.”

  The man pointed at an open tin that was about half full of a greenish paste. “That should help with the burns.”

  Flynn nodded, and the man touched the band around his neck with one hand. “This one will be a different story. If the leather shears are able to cut through the bracelets, they won’t have any problems with this. Me, on the other hand, well, it will probably knock me out cold. Or worse.”

  Flynn gave the man a questioning look. “Are you sure we should be doing this?”

  “I don’t have a choice. If I don’t get these things off, I’m as good as dead as soon as I leave here.”

  The man motioned around the room with one hand. “No offense, but I can’t spend the rest of my life trapped here.”

  Flynn chuckled. “I know what you mean. That’s why I go out hunting monsters with a rusty knife and a broken hammer.”

  “I bet you’ve got some stories. You’ll have to tell me some of them after we get these bands off.” The man nodded resolutely. “We need to get these off first, though. Let’s start with the bracelets.”

  Flynn looked from the leather shears to the bracelet on the man’s closest wrist. He carefully wedged one side of the shears under the bracelet and slowly squeezed down until they were closed on the metal. He looked at the man questioningly and got a nod.

  He grabbed the handles of the shears with both hands and squeezed.

  There was a blinding flash of light, and Flynn stumbled backward, dropping the shears and covering his face with his hands.

  When the light died down, he spread his fingers so he could look through them and found the man rocking back and forth, cradling his arm against his chest. Two charred, golden semicircles lay on the floor.

  “Can you help me with the salve?” the man asked through gritted teeth.

  Flynn scrambled forward and grabbed the tin. “Of course.”

  He dipped two fingers into the tin and scooped out a glob of slimy goo, then gently grabbed the man’s arm with his other hand. His sleeve was charred, and the skin circling his wrist was an angry pink color. Blisters were already forming. The only thing that wasn’t affected was the tattoo that extended down his arm to the back of his hand.

  Flynn carefully spread the gel onto the wound, sucking in a breath each time the man winced. He could imagine how painful the burn must be.

  The salve seemed to have an immediate effect as the man’s facial expressions relaxed a little bit and his jaw unclenched.

  “Alright, let’s do the other arm.”

  The second bracelet came off as easily as the first and left just as nasty of a burn.

  Once both wrists were free and the healing salve spread on the wounds, the man rubbed his hands together, flexing and unflexing as he twisted his wrists. After a moment, he nodded. “Perfect. I already have some of my abilities back. I can feel them.”

  Flynn relaxed a little bit. “Glad I could help.”

  The man shook his head. “We’re not done yet. We still need to get this band off my neck. That is what’s suppressing most of my card powers.”

  “Are you crazy?” Flynn demanded. “That will blow your head right off.”

  “I don’t think so,” the man said in a far from convincing manner. “I don’t have a choice either way. Let’s get it done so my body can start healing.”

  Flynn ran a hand through his hair and groaned. “Alright. It’s your funeral.”

  Well, hopefully not, he thought as he gently slipped one side of the shears behind the metal and closed the shears until they clamped down on the collar. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Not really, but I don’t have any better options. Now do it.”

  Flynn squeezed the shears as hard as he could and was rewarded with an explosion that sent him flying halfway across the room.