The Songbird

Chapter 7: The Search

"Are you okay?"

Dante shook the sun from his eyes, trying to center himself away from the memory of last night's punishment. He still felt hollow where a piece of his magic had been taken, but he couldn't understand why it affected him so. It wouldn't make a noticeable difference to his reserve of magic. It wasn't the first time it happened, and it wouldn't be the last, either.

That was the price Dante paid to lead. Responsibility always belonged to him.

He turned to Jesmyn, who looked much better after a few days of rest despite the worry hiding in her eyes.

"I'm fine, Jess. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you just lied," Samuel piped in, and Dante turned to face him with annoyance on his face.

Sam was the youngest of their group at only eighteen, but he'd been around the second longest. Dante had been twelve when Abbott took Sam in, his gift of enhanced senses having exposed him after cheating at one too many street games. He'd grown up as a poor kid in the Red Alley, so any chance he could con someone out of their money, he took it. Being caught by the authorities was likely the best thing to happen to him, for he never wanted for anything under Abbott's care. However, he never lost that streak of mischievous intrigue, so Sam found other means of using it when Abbott wouldn't notice.

"Quit listening to my heartbeat, you pest," Dante said, but there was no malice to his words as he ruffled Sam's blond hair. He treated all of the knights as his siblings, but having known Sam the longest, the brotherly bond that ran between them would always be the strongest of the bunch.

"C'mon, Dante, you've been sullen all morning," Izan spoke as Samuel grudgingly tried to fix his hair. "What's going on?"

Dante hesitated. He never liked to talk about Abbott's punishments with the others, mainly because he couldn't stand the look of pity in their faces. Or worse, their remorse. The King had once made a deal with Dante, telling him that if he was to lead this group, then he would take responsibility for their actions, as well. That meant standing in their places for retribution, but he gladly took it. The thought of Abbott absorbing a piece of his brothers' or sister's magic made him sick.

He didn't hate the King for it. He knew it was done with the intent to make them better, but that didn't stop the terror he felt at the prospect of having that sense of helplessness turned on people he cared deeply for.

"You were there," Dante acknowledged Izan, referencing the events of last night and the prisoner he'd almost killed. "You saw that I lost the grip on my gift for a split second. I had to be reprimanded."

He'd never told the others exactly what the King did to him, but he was fairly sure they had an idea. Or at least Jesmyn did, for she made her way over to put a hand on his shoulder.

He immediately shrugged it off with an apologetic look. He hated many things in this life, and pity was high on that list. He couldn't accept it from anyone.

"No matter. The prisoner woke up this morning, so I'll just need to be more careful the next time we speak. But Abbott gave two directives for today. Sam, you and Izan are to look for co-conspirators. Anyone who looks suspicious, anyone who mutters sentiments against the King, round them up. Use magic as needed."

"And us?" Jesmyn asked.

"You and I are going to be looking for that girl from the explosion."

"But I don't remember what she looked like."

"Me neither, but she had a red cloth that was longer than everyone else's. I know it's not much, but it's all we've got to go off of."

"Why does Abbott want this girl so badly?" Asked Samuel.