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littered wooden shelves, while the most prominent feature of the room was a large desk and bench. Kian eyed the sleeping arrangement.
    â€œWere you expecting someone?”
    â€œOf course,” Magician replied. “I have always had an offer for you. The question was when you would be ready to accept it.”

    Weeks went by and the summer passed into winter. In the north, fall lasted only a week or so, and Kian guessed Magician lived even farther north than where the Riada had moved since the leaves barely had a chance to change colour before they were frozen in frost. Despite the seasons, Magician’s cottage looked the same, barren.
    Magician was expert at dodging Kian’s questions. Since coming to live with him, Kian had not seen anyone else in the forest at all. The man had chosen his location well.
    Kian was still suspicious of his motives, but the man had magic. Kian knew magic could do wondrous things, and more than anything he wanted to bring back to the Riada what his tribe needed most: a king.
    Despite apparently having waited for him for years, Magician was mostly indifferent to Kian’s presence. He did request that Kian cut his long black hair and get rid of his cloak. When Kian asked why, Magician only danced away from the question.
    â€œThese are the terms of my offer,” Magician said.
    Kian doubted it was the truth, but he couldn’t see the harm in cutting his hair or getting a new cloak, so he agreed.
    Kian served as an apprentice, working at a narrow bench and helping Magician with various magical tasks. Still, the man had given no inclination Kian could ever work magic himself — a fact that wasn’t lost on him.
    â€œWhere does your magic come from?” he asked.
    Magician did not stop his work, scratching flakes off of a scaly purple rock with a chisel and collecting them in a satchel. “All magic comes from the earth. Everybody knows that.”
    Kian considered. “But you were not born with it,” he said. “You are not descended from the gods like the Riada.”
    â€œNo,” Magician said, “I suppose I am not. Some people are not born with power. They take it. And that’s what I did.”
    The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable.
    Kian smiled behind Magician’s back. He had hoped to get some kind of emotional reaction from him — anything that would push Magician into revealing the truth about who he was and how we was going to get the warriors back.
    â€œBy sacrificing people without magic?” Kian said. “Would that not make it dark magic? Evil power?”
    The Magician didn’t skip a beat. “You speak of evil as if you know it. The strong take power. Those who do not must not be strong.” Magician looked up at Kian for the first time. “And do not forget, your beloved Romans have slaves in every corner of this world and sacrifice more than you can imagine for every one of their gods.”
    â€œThe Riada do not love the Kaligan,” Kian insisted, getting angry.
    Magician went back to his rock. “Well, they certainly do all that is asked of them,” he said. “You either love your master, or fear him. Which is it?”
    Kian stood so quickly, he nearly knocked over the table. His fists were clenched and anger throbbed in his head. “The Kaligan do not master the Riada!” he hissed through clenched teeth.
    Magician failed to show any kind of surprise at this outburst. Only when Kian had stormed outside, slamming the small wooden door behind him, did he realize that Magician had turned his own plan against him.
    Kian crouched with his head in his hands by the pond. If only there was a sign that he was doing the right thing. Anything could be happening with the Riada right now, and he was not there to help. He reminded himself that his ability to help was limited, but not knowing was worst of all. And what if his tribe thought him a coward? How long would they wait