Cortham's Hope

Chapter 1

The next morning, Quinten left his home. If his father was right, there was no time to waste.

He had taken all the money he had ever earned working at his father's farm. He hadn't earned much: two gold coins, four silver, and three bronze, but it was something.

He ran as fast as he could towards the hill near the edge of the village. A few men gave him strange looks as he darted past them, swiftly dodging through stands and people alike. He made it to the hill and hiked up as fast as he could, seeing the bakery over the ridge.

From what Quinten heard from his father, most bakers lived in their own shops. His father had been a traveler, walking through many villages until he decided on Dimbonde to live and farm.

The baker, Lauren's father, was standing in front of his shop. He saw Quinten hurrying toward him, out of breath. "Are you all right, young man?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Quinten said. "May I speak to Lauren?"

"What do you need her for?" the baker asked suspiciously.

"I have a note for her," Quinten improvised. "From one of the boys in town who seems to have taken a liking to her."

The baker sighed. "Very well," he said, leading Quinten into his shop. It was a small place. The biggest thing in the shop was easily the massive oven, which towered over Quinten's head, and burned so hot he could feel it even at this distance.

Lauren was sitting on the smaller of two beds, a bow and a quiver of arrows under her bed, slightly peeking out. She was a head shorter than Quinten with warm skin and wavy dark hair. She was wearing a plain gray dress and stared up at Quinten in surprise. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Quinten. A boy in the village wanted me to give this to you," he said, pretending to pull out a note: the baker was right behind him.

She knew immediately what was going on, and thankfully, she played along. "Was it Thomas?" she said, in an air of disgust just mentioning his name.

"Thankfully, no," Quinten said. "I don't know his name, but it was definitely not Thomas."

Speaking in a whisper, Quinten said, "I know what you can do."

Lauren froze. Her wide eyes told him he was right. Her hand inched toward the bow under her bed.

"I'm not here to hurt you," Quinten whispered. "Tell your father we must speak in private."

Lauren pretended to read the note, then stuffed it in her pocket. Quinten carefully moved so that the baker wouldn't see Lauren's empty hand. Turning back to her father, she said, "May I speak with him alone for a moment? About the note?"

"Of course," the baker sighed. "I think there's a customer on their way."

The baker left the house and went to the front of the shop, and Quinten no longer had to whisper.

"How long have you known?" she asked.

"My father found out from the tester. She told no one else about you, I assume?" Quinten asked.

"Of course not," Lauren said. "But why are you here?"

"Yesterday, Thomas came to my family's farm. He threatened to attack me with a sword. I ran, led him into the forest, and disarmed him. He fled into the woods, but his mother knew it was me. She's so furious, and she's a noble. The King definitely knows about me by now, which means he's going to start a search for both me and other mages in this village and neighboring villages. I had to get to you first."