Wizards and Dragons: Fantasy Collection, #1

By Linda McNabb

Three standalone stories in one volume. 
A bit of magic and a dash of dragons - be ready to be transported somewhere fantastical in this collection of three fantasy stories. (also sold separately)

The Last Star 
Nix is a boy with a secret – a secret that even he doesn't know! 
When a golden dragon ship lands on his island, Nix's life is changed forever. Can he save the islands from falling - or will the dragons come back to life and destroy them all? 
A tale of magic, dragons, friendship and discovering a secret that changes everything!

Seventh Son
Jaxon is the seventh son of a seventh son. 
He WAS an apprentice wizard - until he made a huge mess and was banished by his master, Wizard Argus. 
A year later, travelling with Smokey, a troublemaking young dragon, he finds out someone is putting up wanted posters of him. Who wants him and why? 
Jaxon finds that someone is stealing magic and if they aren't stopped the world will begin to fall apart. Only the desert witch can help! 

Maze Keepers 
What lives beyond the border? Something strange is following Quin... 
When Quin is called up to be a keeper of the Maze he knows there will be trouble. He is the only one in his entire world who can't do any magic - what use could he be? 
But something is wrong - the border is failing and the Maze will soon take over the entire land... 
Quin must go in search of the Keeper of the Maze before it is too late!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Southern Star Publishing
• Release date: May 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386251873

Linda McNabb

Linda was born in England but raised in New Zealand where she currently lives. She write mostly non-epic fantasy that can be enjoyed by anyone who enjoys a light and uncomplicated story. They are all family-friendly stories and more often than not have a few dragons in them!

Book preview

Fantasy Collection

Wizards and Dragons

Linda McNabb

Copyright  Linda McNabb 2016

www.lindamcnabb.com

Linda McNabb asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior written permission from the author.

Cover © Vasyl Duda

The Last Star – Read it HERE

Nix is a boy with a secret – a secret that even he doesn’t know!

When a golden dragon ship lands on his island, Nix's life is changed forever. Can he save the islands from falling - or will the dragons come back to life and destroy them all?

A tale of magic, dragons, friendship and discovering a secret that changes everything!

Seventh Son – Read it HERE

Jaxon is the seventh son of a seventh son.

He WAS an apprentice wizard - until he made a huge mess and was banished by his master, Wizard Argus.

A year later, travelling with Smokey, a troublemaking young dragon, he finds out someone is putting up wanted posters of him.  Who wants him and why?

Jaxon finds that someone is stealing magic and if they aren't stopped, the world will begin to fall apart. Only the desert witch can help!

Maze Keepers – Read it HERE

What lives beyond the border? Something strange is following Quin...

When Quin is called up to be a keeper of the Maze he knows there will be trouble. He is the only one in his entire world who can't do any magic - what use could he be?

But something is wrong - the border is failing and the Maze will soon take over the entire land...

Quin must go in search of the Keeper of the Maze before it is too late!

Contents

The Last Star

CHAPTER ONE – FALLING

CHAPTER TWO - A FAVOUR TO REPAY

CHAPTER THREE - THE CHOSEN ONE

CHAPTER FOUR - A RELUCTANT HERO

CHAPTER FIVE - INTO THE NIGHT

CHAPTER SIX - CHASED BY A DRAGON

CHAPTER SEVEN - A LONG WAY DOWN!

CHAPTER EIGHT - DROP ZONE

CHAPTER NINE - LOWLANDS!

CHAPTER TEN - COMING OF THE DRAGONS!

CHAPTER ELEVEN - RETURN TO CHOSEN ISLE

CHAPTER TWELVE - PHOENIX RISES

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - STONE MEMORIES

CHAPTER FOURTEEN - NO MORE DRAGONS

Seventh Son

CHAPTER ONE - WANTED!

CHAPTER TWO - RETURNING HOME

CHAPTER THREE - THE WIZARD’S TOWER

CHAPTER FOUR - SEVENTH SON

CHAPTER FIVE - A WHITE MOUSE

CHAPTER SIX - THE ENCHANTED FOREST

CHAPTER SEVEN - THE WIZARDS’ VALE

CHAPTER EIGHT - A POT OF GOLD

CHAPTER NINE - SAND QUEST

CHAPTER TEN - FOLLOW THE PURPLE FLOWERS

CHAPTER ELEVEN - THE BLACK DRAGON

CHAPTER  TWELVE - THE DESERT WITCH

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – DRAGON’S BREATH

Maze Keepers

CHAPTER ONE - TALISMAN OF DEATH

CHAPTER TWO -  SOUTH PIER

CHAPTER THREE -  THE KEEP

CHAPTER FOUR - BRIDGE TO NOWHERE

CHAPTER FIVE - BEYOND THE BORDER

CHAPTER SIX - ON THE RUN

CHAPTER SEVEN – ROCKHAVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT - UNDER ATTACK

CHAPTER NINE - WHAT, NO MAGIC?

CHAPTER TEN - FINDING OSRIK

CHAPTER ELEVEN - THE TOWER

CHAPTER TWELVE – MARBLES

The Last Star

Linda McNabb

CHAPTER ONE – FALLING

Nix stared at the blazing funeral pyre in disbelief. He still felt numb and a little distant. Only yesterday his aunt had been telling him off for not tending the birds and today he was watching her drift away on plumes of smoke.

The sun had just risen on the horizon and there was a chill wind sweeping in from the edge of the island. The normal birdsong that welcomed the morning was missing and Nix stared at the birds in the trees. They were silent - watching the fire and the smoke that swirled and rose into the still-dark heights. It was almost as if they were showing that they would miss his aunt as well. His gaze drifted back to the flames that burned brighter than the sun.

‘We have to get back to the hall, Nix,’ a soft voice said from next to him and he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He dragged his eyes from the fire and turned to the short, thin woman who stood beside him. Her brown hair was tucked into a dark scarf and her face was stained with tears. ‘I’ll be there in a while, Cook.’

‘I’m sure the scribe won’t be expecting you too early today,’ Cook assured him. ‘But we have to go. The masters will want their breakfast soon.’

Nix looked around at the small group gathered to say goodbye to his aunt. Their clothes marked them all as the lower class of Charm Island. Their threadbare woven tunics didn’t even keep out the winter cold.

He wasn’t surprised that none of the masters of the hall had come. He and his aunt were invisible servants. Unseen and ignored as they ensured the masters led the pampered lives they were accustomed to.

He turned back to the fire and heard the footsteps of the others on the late winter frost as they left. As the fire dimmed and the sun began to rise Nix scuffed at the ground with a bare foot. His frozen toes loosened a small pebble from the dirt and he reached down to pick it up.

He stared at the remnants of the fire as he rubbed some dirt from the pebble. He took a small knife from his pocket and with the tip he scratched an ‘N’ onto the stone then held it tight for a few seconds. A small smile curved his lips as he knew the memory of his aunt’s funeral was now locked in the stone. As he turned away from the fire a voice made him jump.

‘Why do you do that?’ 

Nix hadn’t realised that Toran had stayed. He was Cook’s son and was the closest Nix had ever come to having a friend. Nix and his aunt had moved from one floating island to the next for most of the fourteen years of his life.

Nix slipped the new memory stone and the knife into his pocket and tried to pretend he didn’t know what Toran was talking about.

‘Everyone cries at a funeral,’ Nix he said, wiping an invisible tear from his cheek. He had already done his grieving – ever since his aunt had shown the first signs of rock fever at the beginning of winter.

It was the same disease that had taken his whole family over the years. His parents had both died from it when he was young. He didn’t even remember them – except when he used the memory stones.

‘I mean the rock,’ Toran said. ‘I’ve seen you do that before. You did it the day you arrived here last summer. Your aunt did it as well.’

Nix had learnt long ago that he and his aunt were different to other people. It was a difference that had kept them on the move. Once he had shown his bag of memory stones to a new friend. The boy had looked at him as if he were mad. Memories in a stone? They had moved on less than a month later.

‘We use them for a game,’ Nix explained with a shrug. He started walking away from the funeral pyre, glancing back only once.

Toran kept pace with him and soon they reached the narrow path that led down the side of the rocky face of the island. The sun had risen enough to tinge the sky a pale blue all the way to the horizon.

The ground fell away to empty space where the island ended. The cave he lived in was built into the rocky foundations of the airborne island. Far down below, floating in the crystal-clear air were several dozen islands. Some were higher than others and some were so small they couldn’t be seen from this distance.

‘I have to go and help in the kitchens,’ Toran said. ‘Do you want me to cover for you for this morning?’

‘I won’t be long. I’ll just check the birds and come up again,’ Nix said with a shake of his head. The last thing he needed was time alone to think.

Toran nodded and hurried off towards the large building across the lawn. It was Charm Hall and housed the masters of all the trades among the islands. Having earned the highest status possible they lived out their lives in luxury and decadence.

Nix ran down the steep path. There was no barrier to stop him tumbling off the edge to a certain death, but he had climbed up and down so often he was not afraid.

The island just below was much larger than the one he lived on. He could walk the length of Charm Island in just over a day and it was only half as wide. Not that he had much of a chance to do so as servants weren’t supposed to be seen. They lived in the rocky caves and were despised as an unpleasant necessity. The term Rock Rat had come to mean anyone who lived below the manicured lawns and gardens of the island.

A bird, a little below his island, rose on the warming air currents and Nix watched for a few seconds, envying its freedom and flight. His one dream in life was to fly, but he contented himself with tending those who did.

He paused at the entrance to his home. It was cold and dark inside. Aunt Lily would have had a fire banked to last the day.

His eyes adjusted very fast to the darkness as he went in. It was another difference that made him stand out. He slipped off the tunic he had borrowed from Toran and tugged on the only one he owned. It was stained and old, but the birds didn’t mind and he didn’t either. He walked over to a high shelf and took down a small leather pouch.

He tipped its contents onto the rocky floor of his cave. A dozen stones, of different shapes and sizes, lay scattered before him. Each had a small ‘N’ scratched into the surface. He looked at each one in turn, knowing where and when he had found them. Each one had a memory inside.

He took the new memory stone from his pocket and gathered them all up. He put them back in the bag and pulled the leather thong tight. Reaching up, he placed it back on the shelf. Next to it was another bag, bigger and much older.

He picked it up and tipped some stones into his hand. These were the collective memories of his entire family. Each was inscribed with a letter, and some also had a small star scratched next to the letter. Some stones had memories stored in them – but most were just empty stones. He had no idea why they were in the family memory bag, but he put them back with the rest and returned it to the high shelf.

A loud jangling noise made him turn with a scowl. He glared at the offending bell that hung high in the roof of his home. Why did the scribe ring it every morning? Nix was always at the hall before breakfast was served to the masters. He didn’t need reminding, not even today. The bell continued to swing back and forth, linked to the rope that led upwards through the rock and into the basement of Charm Hall above.

He made a soft clucking noise to soothe the birds that shared his rocky cave but the bell wasn’t bothering them, only Nix. Without warning his vision began to blur and a throbbing deep in his head blocked out the sound of the bell.

He sat down with his back to the wall so that he couldn’t fall any further. He shut his eyes and brought his knees up to his chest.

With a sinking heart Nix knew what it was. Rock fever! This was how it had started for his aunt. It wasn’t something he even wanted to think about.

After a few seconds his head began to clear, and he blinked the cave back into focus. Swallowing hard, Nix pushed himself to his feet. How long did he have? Six months, maybe less. He shook his head to dispel such thoughts and regretted it a second later than his head buzzed with pain.

A flutter of wings, quiet on the early morning breeze made him look up. A snow-white dove flew into the cave and perched on a thin landing rail just inside the entrance. It was a little early for messages to be arriving. He walked over to the bird, dipped his hand in his pocket and brought out a few grains of birdseed for the dove. Then he removed the message pouch from its leg without the bird even looking up from its feed. The bird, finishing the seed and feeling the weight free of its leg, flew off to the back of the cave to find a nesting hole to sleep in after its long flight.

Nix opened the pouch and peered at the small writing on the outside of the scroll. Not many people at the great hall could read, but his aunt had taught him when he was just a small boy.

He didn’t need to know who the message was for as he always had to find the scribe and take him along to read the letter to its intended recipient anyway. Of all the masters, the most messages came for the Master Storyteller. All of them wanted him to attend an event on their island and entertain them. Of course he never went. None of the masters here did much.

All except for one master. Master Tobuk. Having reached the top of his trade as a Master of Illusions he had taken over the role held by his father. Charm Master. Dispenser of all charms throughout the islands, he was the highest-ranking master of them all.

This message was addressed to him, the Grand Master of Charms. To have arrived here so early in the morning it must have been released late in the night. It must be a very urgent matter. The blue wax seal on the parchment was of a flying eagle, the symbol of the scribe on Little Peak Island.

The bell high above him rang again and much longer. It was obvious the scribe was angry at being ignored. No doubt he had a number of horrible tasks lined up for Nix.

Nix tucked the new message back into its pouch and then into his pocket. Grabbing a rag, he brushed down his tunic to shift as many of the bird droppings as he could. They didn't bother him, but he knew those up in the great hall did not like the smell.

‘I'll be back soon,’ he called out to the birds as the ringing faded to a faint echo.

When he was halfway up the narrow path a flock of birds flew towards him. Nix flicked a thought out to them to turn from their path. Not only would they hit him, but the cliff face of the island as well. The birds changed course and flew off, squawking at Nix. He resumed his climb wondering how their tracking could be so far off. 

All thoughts of birds fled his mind as he reached the main level of Charm Island. A swift movement high above to his left made him stop and stare. Sinking down from the sky was a huge black bulk, and it was heading straight for him. He stared at it for a few seconds then realised that he would have to move. He hurried backwards, with his eyes still on the huge black shape. It was obvious that it wasn’t a bird, but what else could be falling from the sky?

He didn’t have to wait long to find out as the black object landed right in front of him. ‘It’s a dragon ship,’ he muttered to himself. The large black wings folded in and the ship came to a halt right next to a tall marble post outside the hall. He saw a tail flick past then it seemed to glue itself to the side of the ship, forming a very odd set of steps to the ground below.

He could hear a great deal of talking from onboard the ship and a few seconds later three men came hurrying down the tail-steps. They took no notice of Nix and marched up the steps to the hall. By their red velvet cloaks and ornate walking sticks, Nix guessed that these were mayors from some other islands.

A few seconds later an older man wandered down the steps as well. He brushed down his black cloak with his hands, looking annoyed at the dirt he found on it. He too, ignored Nix and tied a rope from the ship onto the marble post.

Nix had seen other dragon ships in the sky below many times, but always from a distance. Now and then one came to Charm Island, but he had always been down in the depths of the hall, and missed their fleeting visits. They had always dropped off their passengers and left before he could come out to look.

From a distance, the ships seemed to be graceful and shining with gold so bright that it hurt to look at them. It was said each ship was charmed and would fly anywhere its drifter told it to go.

This one looked more intimidating than graceful and did not glow at all. In fact it was so dirty that the soot hid the golden exterior. The man slouched against it watched Nix with a bored expression as he whittled a piece of wood with his knife. His black robe marked him as a drifter and Nix returned the man’s gaze with more than a hint of jealousy. The hood of the drifter’s robe was down and his age showed in his grey hair and heavy lines on his face.

‘You can come closer if you want,’ the drifter said, using the hem of his cloak to shift a little dirt from the hull of his ship.

Nix knew he had a message to deliver and that he had been summoned twice already by the scribe but nothing could have stopped him taking up the drifter’s offer. He walked up to the ship which seemed to hover a hand-span above the grass, and then around it. 

The sides of the ship came up far too high for Nix to see the deck but he could see the outline of scales moulded on the side, even through the sooty dirt.

‘She’s a beauty. Well, she is when she’s clean,’ the drifter said. ‘But that’s what you get for travelling through the Lowlands.’

Nix had his hand stretched out to touch the hull of the ship, but hung back, unsure if he was allowed to. He turned to stare at the drifter in surprise. ‘You’ve been to the Lowlands?’

‘Only this once,’ the drifter replied with a slight shake of his head. ‘It’s not somewhere I’d go back to in a hurry either. The fall zone wasn’t where they said it would be and the ship got covered in dirt and soot and a few other things too.’

‘What’s a fall zone?’ Nix asked.

‘It’s where things fall,’ the drifter explained in a dry, sarcastic voice.

His reply didn’t mean anything to Nix, but he wasn’t daunted by the drifter’s lack of effort to explain. ‘They say it’s always night time there and the people have no eyes as they wouldn’t be able to see anyway...’

The drifter gave a short snort of laughter and put his whittling into his pocket. He reached out a hand towards Nix. ‘They say a lot of things. I didn’t see any eyeless people. The name’s Declan.’

‘I’m Nix.’ Nix rubbed his hand on his tunic then shook the offered hand. He had a million questions he wanted to ask about the dragon ship but he remembered that he was expected in the great hall. ‘I have to go. Will you still be here in an hour or two?’

‘I’ll be here as long as the mayors want me to be,’ Declan replied with a shrug. He took his knife and carving out of his pocket and began to carve some detail onto the dragon form that he had shaped.

Nix nodded a polite goodbye to the drifter and turned towards the hall. He ignored the impressive marbled steps right in front of him and headed around the back of the hall. His route into the hall was through the servants’ area at the back.

The smell of fresh-baked bread made him draw a deep breath, and he licked his lips. He pushed open the door that led into the kitchen and eyed the loaves of bread resting on the large wooden table. Rusty, Cook’s dog, rose from his comfortable spot on the rug and slunk into the back corner of the kitchen. Nix took no notice as the dog had never liked him. At least it didn’t growl at him as much as it used to.

Cook stood at another bench, decorating fancy cakes with icing and coloured sugar. As Nix let the door swing shut she turned and smiled at him.

‘I could smell you before you even came in, Phoenix,’ she said with mock reproach. ‘Leave me your tunic and I’ll wash it for you. You can keep Toran’s for a few days.’

Toran grinned at him from where he was stirring a pot over the fire. All of her seven children worked in the main hall in some way or other.

‘Yes Cook,’ Nix replied, even though he had no intention of leaving his tunic. He didn’t know if she had a real name but everyone called her Cook. She was one of the few people who used Nix’s full name and only when she was cross with him.

‘I promised Lily I’d look after you,’ Cook said, selecting a powdered donut and carrying it over to him. She shook her head a little as she handed it to him. ‘It’s a shame she fell ill so young and with you still only fourteen summers old. One day they’ll find a cure for Rock Fever. I’m lucky never to have lost any of mine to it.’

Nix just nodded as he popped the still hot donut in his mouth. He had no intention of telling her about his dizzy spell.

‘If they let us live up on the surface we wouldn’t have to live in damp caves,’ Cook continued talking as she handed him a bread roll. ‘Then they couldn’t call us Rock Rats either.’

‘I like my cave,’ Nix replied, pocketing the bread for later. He didn’t think he’d be comfortable living in a house with walls and windows and no natural breezes.

‘You’d best get yourself upstairs. The scribe was in here ten minutes ago looking for you. He said he had a lot of errands for you to run today.’ Cook handed him another donut and turned him towards the wooden stairs at the back of the kitchen.

‘Yes Cook,’ he replied. He put the donut in his pocket with the bread.

‘Hold on,’ Cook called out to him. ‘Since you’re here you can take this tray up to the masters in the feasting hall. And if that Master Baker grumbles about my bread one more time he can come down here and bake it himself!’

Nix took the tray of fancy breads and ran up the stairs two at a time. He was breathing hard by the time he reached the top of the short flights of stairs that led to the main hall. He ignored the fact that it was yet another symptom of Rock Fever.

The masters were all at the long wooden table in the feasting hall, talking and eating at the same time. Nix saw that the seat at the head of the table was empty. It belonged to the charm master who had no doubt been called away to see the visiting mayors. His plate of food was half-eaten and Nix knew the master would not be in a good mood for having his breakfast interrupted. Nix put the tray on the table and hurried out before any of the masters noticed him. The scribe wasn’t the only one who gave Nix nasty errands to run.

He went to the main reception hall at the front of Charm Hall. Most days the scribe would be at the small writing desk in the corner, waiting to give him a list of unpleasant jobs. But there was no sign of either the scribe or a letter to take today so Nix waited by the desk for a few minutes.

‘There you are, Nix!’ a voice said from behind him. A skinny, tall and very nervous looking man hurried into the hall. He had a sheaf of papers under one arm and a collection of writing tools and ink in the other. His clothes were wrinkled and his ginger hair was tousled as if he had not long woken up. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’

‘Sorry I got held up, Korren,’ Nix muttered back.

‘I was going to get you to make some more parchment, but we seem to have visitors. They may be here to buy a charm so I’d better be there when I’m needed.’ Korren was talking to himself as he checked the sheaf of papers and then looked around the hall looking confused. ‘I wonder where they are. Come with me in case I need you to fetch something.’

Nix thought that such important visitors were probably being entertained in more elegant surroundings. Nix followed Korren as they checked several small reception rooms, then the library, and worked their way up to the top floor of the hall. Nix had only been up here a few times. Golden drapes hung at the windows and red velvet cushions adorned the many chairs. Exquisite tapestries covered the walls. He knew that some of these had been given in payment for charms.

Voices up ahead told him that they had found the visitors. The voices were coming from the viewing room. Nix hid a small grin as they walked along the corridor. Cook had brought him here once and he remembered it well. They’d had only a few minutes while the charm master was busy elsewhere but it was long enough to make him want to return.

It was built on the side of the hall and it extended over the edge of the island. It had a much better view than his cave.

As the door came into view he saw Master Tobuk enter the room. The black beady eyes of the charm master stared at Nix and Korren as they entered but his expression dismissed them as unimportant as he turned to talk to the mayors.

‘Welcome to Charm Hall. I require a day’s notice when requesting a charm, but since you are here I can make an exception.’

The mayors all shook their head and spoke together.

‘We are not here to buy a charm.’

‘Our islands are sinking.’

‘Something must be done!’

The charm master stared at the tall, thin man whose fancy M insignia denoted he was from March Island, the one just below them.

‘Mayor Jorah, please relax. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a natural fluctuation of heights,’ Master Tobuk said in a calm voice.

‘I can almost see the Lowlands from Ester Island,’ the overweight mayor said with a tone of disgust.

‘And we don’t want to be shaded by any of you any more than we have to,’ Mayor Rossen, the third mayor snapped. Nix guessed he was from the Lowlands.

Nix dared a direct look at the Lowlands’ mayor. He didn’t appear to be any different to the other mayors. His shock of red hair contrasted with his pale skin; in fact he was so pale that Nix guessed it must be very dark in the Lowlands. The mayor held his head up with his chin jutting out as he glared at the other mayors.

Master Tobuk walked to the window, across the clear glass floor and then looked down. ‘You are worrying over nothing Mayor Orlan. They don’t look any closer to me.’

Nix and the scribe edged closer until they too could see the view through the glass floor. Far below was March Island and Nix had to agree with Master Tobuk. It looked just the same as it always did. The islands often moved a little but always returned to their normal place in the sky.

‘That’s because your island is sinking as well!’ Mayor Jorah snapped back.

Nix thought back to the birds around the rock this morning. The birds often hovered just above March Island, picking on the scraps of the large marketplace there. Could it be that the birds weren’t higher - but their island lower? As if to prove his theory right, another flock of birds flew under the glass floor, obscuring their view for a few seconds.

‘They are just high-flying birds. I have seen them before,’ Master Tobuk said, looking to be having trouble controlling his temper. ‘You are wasting my time with your overactive imaginations.’

The mayors all began talking at once; seeming very offended by Master Tobuk’s words.

‘Come down to March Island and you’ll see what I mean,’ Mayor Jorah insisted.

‘Do we have to wait until all the islands falls on top of my lands?’ Mayor Orlan demanded.

‘Bring up the drifter,’ Master Tobuk said with an undertone of anger and impatience. ‘He will confirm that the islands are not sinking. Mayors, perhaps I can offer a discounted charm so that your visit is not a complete waste of your time?’

The charm master, with a theatrical flourish of his white cloak, produced a small sliver flask and placed it on a table by the wall. Nix had seen the illusion before, but he had never seen where the master took the flask from. Master Tobuk had been the best illusionist in all the islands so it wasn’t surprising.

Nix knew the flask contained charmed water. Just one drop was enough to create a charm that lasted for hundreds of years.

‘Fetch the drifter,’ Master Tobuk snapped again, looking at Toran, who had been hovering by the door with a platter of food. Toran put down the tray and ran out the door. Nix remembered the scroll that had arrived this morning and stepped forward to lay it on the table next to the flask.

The three mayors retreated to the far end of the room and whispered with their heads close together. Even Nix’s excellent hearing could not pick up their conversation but no doubt they were considering the offer of a cheap charm.

‘Scribe, read the letter. It looks dirty and I do not wish to touch it,’ Master Tobuk said, seeing the scroll on the table. Nix knew the charm master could not read but was looking to save face in front of the mayors.

Korren stepped forward and snapped off the wax seal then unravelled the parchment. A second parchment was tucked inside and it fell on the floor. Nix hurried to pick it up and hand it to the scribe. In the split second that he held it he recognised it as a charm the scribe had written out the day before.

‘Charm Master,’ Korren read out loud. ‘I hereby return the charm that arrived yesterday. I would like a full refund of monies paid. I had expected far more for the excessive price charged.  It would not even unlock my own chamber door, no matter the ones I must open in my trade as a thief. The quality of your charm is not worth the parchment it is written on...’

Korren took a breath as if to continue reading but Master Tobuk snatched both the parchment and the charm from him with a furious glare. His eyes flicked over to the mayors to see if they had heard but they were still huddled together, deep in conversation. No doubt the charm master would not want anyone to know he sold charms to the lower end of society for ill purposes.

Master Tobuk took the smaller parchment, with the charm on it, over to the window and held it out to the rising sun. Nix knew the charm on it would make the paper glow with the colours of a rainbow. The sun struck the paper but instead of a hue of colours, the sun showed just the dark ink through the thin parchment.

Nix had seen the different moods of his master hundreds of times but not once had he ever seen the doubt and fear that he saw now.

Silence fell as they all waited for the drifter to be brought to the viewing room. The charm master tucked the failed charm into his pocket and glanced down at the floating island below every few seconds. He tipped his head this way and that, as if trying to judge if the distance had changed.

Then Master Tobuk looked over at Nix and frowned as if he had just noticed him. He took in the pale brown tunic covered in bird droppings, the dirty, matted hair and bare feet. Then his gaze stopped at Nix’s pocket. The charm master frowned and his eyes flicked towards the platter of food that Korren had placed on the floor by the door in his haste to leave.

A bead of sweat broke out on Nix’s forehead as Master Tobuk turned his attention back on him. He strode over to Nix in two paces and wrinkled his nose at the smell of being so close. Nix froze. He had never approached him like this before.

‘You have stolen from me,’ Master Tobuk accused Nix, getting the attention of the three mayors with his booming voice. ‘You will be cast off the cliffs.’

CHAPTER TWO - A FAVOUR TO REPAY

‘A s long as they throw him off in the dump zone,’ Mayor Joran muttered, just loud enough for Nix to hear. ‘Or he’ll land on March Island.’

‘I don’t want him falling onto my lands either,’ the Lowland’s mayor argued with Mayor Joran.

‘I haven’t stolen anything, Master,’ Nix said with as much courage as he could muster. He did not doubt Master Tobuk’s threat.

‘These sugar crumbs say different,’ Master Tobuk snapped and pointed at the edge of Nix’s pocket. ‘Empty your pocket.’

Nix swallowed hard as he reached into his pocket. He knew there was still a donut and fresh bread roll in there and that Master Tobuk would have all the evidence he needed. All servants were allowed to have from the kitchens was the old loaves and leftovers. There was no way he was going to say that Cook had given it to him as he didn’t put it past Master Tobuk to throw her off the cliffs as well.

He pulled out the sugar-coated donut and held it out, wondering if he had time to make a run for it.

‘I gave it to him,’ a voice said from the doorway.

Nix turned at the same time as Master Tobuk and saw the drifter walking in, munching on a donut like the one Nix held.

‘Why?’ Master Tobuk’s tone was far less aggressive towards the drifter. Although they had no lands, no real rank in society, they were not someone to upset. In their hands lay the sole means of travelling in comfort between the islands. A few charmed trading platforms were the only other method of moving people or goods around. They moved up and down between the islands each day but were not a nice way to travel.

‘The boy offered to clean my ship,’ the drifter said with a shrug as he reached down to the platter and took another donut. ‘It’s a big job and I thought he needed some food to keep him going for that long.’

Nix could not believe what he was hearing. A drifter who he had never met before, was standing up for him and even lying for him.

Master Tobuk made a sound that was a mixture between a grunt and a