The Well's Orphan

By Nick Hayden

Book 3 - Thyrion is ruined, and so is Calea.

Shattered by the discovery that magic is gone even in Thyrion, Calea is left to pick up the pieces of her life. With nowhere else to go, she enters the city with Bron and Nyasha, broken and searching for some thread of purpose. But is there anything for a crippled woman in a crippled city? Or shall she, too, go the way of magic?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Children of the Wells
• Release date: Nov 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310944543

Nick Hayden

Nick Hayden has never known exactly what to write in his author's bio, but he's willing to try. Nick is married to his lovely wife Natasha, he is father to his wonderful son Fyodor. (No, we are not Russian.) Sometimes Nick really loves to write. Sometimes, he prefers to dream about writing. Most times, he enjoys reading things he's already written. Without a doubt, he has to write. He truly believes that fiction is a lie that tells the truth. That is why he writes, and that is why he loves fiction. He tends to read books published before his birth, though he is always willing to make exceptions. He tends to write speculative fiction, though he is always willing to make exceptions. Nick believes in the redemptive sacrifice of Jesus Christ and believes that Jesus is the truth. This may very well show up in his writings, but hopefully won't land like a piano from a third story window. Above all, Nick hopes that something here will inspire you, entertain you, make you think, or simply make you smile. If not, he supposes he'll have to keep at it until something does.

Book preview

This book is part of an ongoing series. New books are published regularly. Visit www.childrenofthewells.com for the latest news and to get to know the authors.

Bron & Calea

The Select's Bodyguard

The Doctor's Assistant

The Well's Orphan

Jaysynn

The Fall of the House of Kyzer

The Rules Change

New Wells Rising

Call of the Watchman

The Story So Far

This is the third book of Bron and Calea.

Previously, in The Doctor’s Assistant, Bron and Calea arrived at the Medical Sanctuary in Averieom in search of a non-magic-powered arm and leg for Calea. They were disappointed to discover Averieom’s magic Well was as empty as Jalseion’s. Nervous Dr. Burdock, the only doctor who didn’t take his services to Jalseion in the wake of the Cataclysm, tried to help them the best he could but ended up suggesting they find the young Sanctuary assistant, Nyasha Cormorin, who had picked up some tricks of the trade. Bron dug Nyasha out of the remains of her home, fallen during the Cataclysm, and devastated though she was by the loss of her parents in the destruction, she helped fit Calea with rudimentary prosthetics.

Calea insisted she and Bron travel on to Thyrion in the hopes of finding magic there. Nyasha offered to guide them across the mountains, buying her way into their twosome with food supplies, and the three set off on a supposedly two-week journey. Along the way, Bron mysteriously managed to find shelter for them in times of dire need. Also, Bron’s fighting skills came in handy when they got waylaid by bandits. When they finally got to Thyrion a week later than planned, they discovered that Thyrion, too, had lost its magic, and Calea’s spirit broke.

Now, they are headed into Thyrion to find a respite from their travels and discover what news they can. 

Chapter 1 - The Hollow Earth

I know what I said when I was in that hole in the ground. It was dark and I was cold and I was afraid. I told Bron I didn’t want to die. I know I said it. I had never admitted it to anyone else, but it is true, and it has been since that day so long ago, that day that hovers over my shoulder no matter how fast I run, that day when the Well sucked in my arm, my leg, like wet noodles, savoring the taste. I have always feared death. The fear has lived in my soul and I have kept it in its cage, snarling, licking the wounds it gives.

I don’t want to die, but I don’t know how to live.

What about Remirion? I can barely manage the words.

I cannot see Bron, I don’t want to see him, but I can feel him. He says nothing.

We can go to Remirion, I repeat. The well there is in the mountains, secluded, isolated. Protected. It’ll still be there. It has to be.

I look at the ground. My eyes are still full of tears. I am incapable of feeling anything but inexpressible sorrow. If my mind touches it, even delicately, I begin to unravel. I can’t understand it. I can only express it.

Bron still has not answered.

We can go north, then, I say, to the outskirts of civilization. Surely some of the small wells survive.

The girl’s hands are on my shoulder. They are warm and strong and gentle. Their motion is small, repetitive. I notice it suddenly. Get off me! I fling my crutch around at her. It slips from my hand and flies away.

Bron remains silent. Nyasha says nothing. I dare not look at them. But I force myself to look up, to open my eyes and look.

Thyrion, the Great City. Thryion, the Center of the World. Its Heart ripped out.

And mine.

The gash is enormous. It seems to open into the bowels of the earth. An empty container is so much larger than a full one, an open grave so much darker than a closed one.

Where do we go, Bron? Where now?

Down.

And then? Where?

It’s gone, Calea. All of it.

I stiffen at the words.

That’s impossible, I say. Because it is. It is impossible. Magic fuels the world. How will we live? The world is barren except where magic gathers. If magic dies, we die.

Bron circles around and comes to sit in front of me. He almost blocks the wound that mars the great city with his body. He looks at me with his intense gaze. It burns. Whatever fire has gone out of the world has not yet left him.

He forms his words with agonizing slowness. We have left one ruined city. We have come to another through hardship. Nothing has changed. Let us rest a while here and discover what news we might find.

He did not answer the unspoken question. I need him to answer it. I’ll find magic, I say.

He nods and stands. We’ll rest a while longer before starting down.

He wanders off. Nyasha hovers nearby. There has to be magic somewhere, she says. She doesn’t mean it; she only wants it to be true because it sounds comforting.

*    *    *

I sleep deeply that night. I want to escape. They have seen me weep. They have offered poor comfort. And I am deeply, bone-wearily exhausted.

I wake when roused. I eat as directed. I gather my things and begin to stump my way down, leaning too heavily on my crutch. Bron makes his concerned face at me, which I ignore. Nyasha tries harder as we descend. If we can find one of my papa’s relatives, I’m sure he can help us. Thyrion’s a big, important city.

The girl’s optimism is disingenuous. If Jalseion had no preparation for the event that