Chapter ONE - Weebly

done before had impressed the old man as much as
getting thrashed by Sephira Pryce’s men.
While Henry was gone he gently probed his ribs
with his hands, trying to decide if any were broken. It
felt like at least one of them was, but Henry entered the
room again before he could cut himself and cast a
healing spell. For all their years of friendship the old
man didn’t know that Ethan was a conjurer. Or if he
did, he acted as though he assumed Ethan didn’t cast
anymore, for he never mentioned spellmaking or
“witchcraft” in front of Ethan.
Henry had brought a bucket of cold water, several
pieces of clean cloth, and a bottle of what Ethan
guessed was rum. He helped Ethan climb into the chair
and then began to clean the wounds on his face. The
old cooper was surprisingly gentle and deft, though he
worked slowly. It wasn’t long before the cloths were
stained red with blood. Henry continually wrung them
out into the bucket, and soon the water had shaded
toward pink.
“Lot o’ blood,” the cooper said after a lengthy
silence.