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The Cursed Lands Part 49

  The first miner ran headfirst into a transparent golden wall. It enveloped me in a sphere, and… and I was back in the mansion’s kitchen.

  Huh?

  I ran my hands along the rough wooden surface of the kitchen table. The smell of Gren's stew was heavy in the air. The comforting warmth of the fireplace caressed my skin.

  I missed this…

  Wait… How is this happening?!

  The next few miners skid to a stop, clinking against the sphere like birds bumping into a glass window.

  Gasps rippled through the crowd. They stumbled back, stunned at the magical display.

  "A mage… He's a mage! A mage!"

  "He isn’t a mage. I am."

  The tall, black doors of the Sanctifier Guildhall were open.

  Reed stood in front of the grey building with her spiked club slung over one shoulder.

  Her face was a mask of irritation—the corners of her ruby lips twitching into a scowl.

  That mild disapproval was enough to make the miners cower—the magic helped, too.

  "Today, we decide the future of Steeltown."

  She lifted the club off her shoulder, pointing the length of blackened iron in the direction of the Pit and my party's shocked faces.

  "Mining crew leaders and above into the Pit. The rest of you leave. Now!"

  The crowd dispersed with a few muted grumbles of complaint, leaving me standing beside the fallen Tiny Tom Harwick.

  My party walked past the people filing into the Pit. Arwen and two of his guards lingered off to the side.

  Reed loped towards me. I spit out a glob of pink fluid, checking my mouth for any loose teeth.

  "Thanks, Reed, I-"

  SLAP!

  The world spinned. The Inquisitor's open-handed strike whipped my head to the left.

  "I told you to rest. Instead, I find you in the middle of a fight with another cartel leader! Do you take me so lightly?!"

  A band of golden light wrapped around my arms and stomach.

  "Is force the only thing you understand?!"

  The band tightened. It was a vice, pushing my elbows into my sides, crushing my organs and stealing my breath.

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  “I get it… I-I get it!” I said in a wet wheeze. The semi-solid band was crushing my diaphragm and, with it, my ability to speak.

  "Do you?!"

  She leaned closer, slamming the head of her club into the dirt.

  "You asked me about my stick. Maybe it's time I used it."

  Castille walked ahead of the party.

  "That’s enough, Inquisitor."

  Reed’s eyes flicked to the taller woman.

  “It’s enough when I say it’s enough.”

  "Please just let him go," Isla said.

  Dugan’s hand reached for the axe head looped into his belt.

  Reed narrowed her eyes.

  "Loyalty? Good. You'll need it."

  The golden band dissolved into glittering particles that winked out before touching the ground.

  I took a deep, shuddering breath.

  "Lick your wounds and get inside. You have an important part in this play."

  Reed brushed past Castille to walk to the doors of the Pit.

  "A bowl of sunshine, that one," Castille said, watching the Inquisitor leave.

  She rubbed her chin with one scarred hand.

  "Although... she's growing on me!"

  "Jacob, are you alright?" Isla asked.

  "I'll live."

  "We’ll need to get that dust off you. It's toxic."

  I nodded.

  "I should have time to clean up."

  I gestured to Tom.

  "The meeting can't start without him. Right, Arwen?"

  Arwen walked up with his two guards.

  "That’s right. Philip. Frank, get him up. We'll ask Cassandra to use the Pit's services."

  The two men exchanged looks.

  "Not those services. Now git!"

  The two men hoisted Tom over their shoulders and dragged him to the Pit. We fell into step behind them with Arwen by my side.

  "Arwen... I'm sorry for beating up your nephew."

  He chuckled.

  "Why? He deserved it. Besides, there aren’t any lasting injuries."

  Tom's head lolled to one side.

  "Are you sure?"

  Arwen gave me a dismissive wave.

  "He'll be fine. Trust me."

  I gave him a slow nod.

  "Most people around here hate me. You don’t…”

  “And wanna know why? Is that it?”

  “Yeah… I do.”

  Arwen smiled.

  "Before the curse reached Southsun, we used to have a wanderer stop by the village every few years—a real scholarly type. He would stay at the headman's house and trade stories from the road in return for room and board. As a boy, I loved his stories—all the far-off lands, interesting people and customs. One place I found more interesting than the others. Can you guess which?"

  I smirked.

  "The Forest Enclave of Elves."

  He grinned and nodded.

  "I couldn't believe it. A society without nobles or peasants, where everyone was as equal as the day they were born. They even choose their own leaders!"

  He laughed, shaking his head.

  "I thought it was a daydream, the kind ya get when you work the fields for too long, but we're doing it here… slowly. That daycare you saw is only the beginning."

  His enthusiasm was contagious. A society without nobles. If the Forest Enclave elves could do it, why not the people here?

  I smiled.

  "Just don't let the Vangraves hear you."

  “Then let’s keep it a secret.”

  He winked.

  “I-”

  I stopped mid-sentence. A sound, like thunder, rumbled down the street. It was the sound of horses—a lot of them.

  They were moving at a full gallop, kicking up a cloud of dust that obscured them from view.

  The lead horses pulled up and slowed to a trot, and as the dust settled, the riders were revealed.

  Van Lagos rode at the head of a group with Finnick and Lira on either side.

  His face soured when he saw me beside an upbeat Arwen.

  "See! I warned you, brother! Look at the elf's treachery," Finnick said.

  Van Lagos narrowed his eyes, trotting closer to our group.

  “I thought I was late, but I was just in time.”

  He sighed.

  "I didn’t want my brother to be right."

  “He isn’t. Van, I can explain-”

  "Explain what?! The truth is revealed to my eyes and ears. You lied to me, Jacob. Once, I can understand, but twice!"

  He leaned over and spit on the ground, pointing at the moist patch of earth.

  “You made your bed and forsaken my friendship. Be glad you don’t face my fury. That’s what the embers of my good will buy you. Now, I have a meeting.”

  He tugged on the reins, turning his horse to face the twenty riders behind him.

  As his spit evaporated on the ground, so did my hopes of learning the secret of fire that didn't burn—Arwen better be worth it.

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