STORM
I move like a whisper through the autumn trees. Their red-gold shadows dapple the ground as I attempt not to step on them. A noise will give me away.
The bustling shop lies just fifty feet away. I look around a see that nobody is here, then I dash across the parking lot and melt into the crowd.
The reason for my secrecy?
Well, for one thing I’m paranoid.
And for another, I’m being chased down by the Halflord, remember? SO I have to keep a relatively low profile.
I slink into the canned isle and quickly stock my cart with soup, beans, and spaghetti. I also manage to grab some tomatoes. Just protein isn’t too healthy.
Okay, now the hardest part: getting back out without paying for the cans. I wait for a few minutes, then slowly walk over to a stand of birthday cards. I bend over and gently place one of my cans at my feet, hidden by my foot to everyone else. I then remain bent, appearing only to be observing the bottom row of cards.
I kick the can, and it rolls over and straight into a man’s feet. He shouts as he falls, and his groceries are flung everywhere. Food sellers pause and run over to help him up.
While the commotion is happening, I walk away from the mess, past the owner of the shop, and out the door. Just a few miles away lies my home, so I’m sure to be back in about a half hour.
I laugh to myself as I run back through the twisted trees, hauling my large bag of cans. The reason we use canned food? The metal is reusable. We can make a hot fire and melt it somewhat, then mold it into shapes we want. Mostly we use them for Fel’s arrowheads. They’re very sharp.
Arrow heads...
A fourteen year old boy shouldn’t have to think about whether his knife is sharp enough, or if the Halflord’s guards will catch him today or the next, or whether he should split up with his sister to reduce the danger on her if he’s caught, or stay with her because she’d be safer that way.
I plod back to the tree, my energy gone. “Hi Fel...can we work on the cave?”
Like I said, my energy is gone. I do NOT in fact want to work on the cave, but it’s something to take my mind off other thoughts.
“Sure.” Fel looks suspicious. Clearly she knows something’s wrong, but she doesn’t talk about it. I silently thank her as she descends from the tree and plops next to me.
I set down the cans and we walk over to the cave, grabbing our shovels and going inside. The walls are tight around us, and I elbow Fel and point to my left: “Fel, let’s do this wall today.”
I dig my shovel into the wall and pull out a shovelful of the loamy soil. I then empty it into one of the large bins we have standing nearby-after we fill them with dirt, we put the bins on wheels attached to boards and wheel them deep into the forest, where we dump them in a river.

Another shovelful enters the bin, and another. Me and Fel together chip away at the wall, but about a foot in I hit solid rock. So does Fel. Our shovels ricochet off the hard stone with a sharp noise and fall back into our hands.

“Ah...let’s try the other wall.” Fel says. I nod.

Fortunately, this wall doesn’t have solid stone behind it, and the damp coolness of the air keep the sweat from literally pouring down my face until we’re about three or four feet through the wall and about two hours have passed. The bins are nearly full, so I move to take them. Fel collapses on a rock and pants.

After returning from dumping the bins, we clamber up our tree and settle down to a lunch of roasted squirrel that Fel shot. The meat is juicy and well-cooked, and I find myself once again silently thanking Fel’s hunting skills.

“Storm?”

“Yeah. What?”

“You know that item that we need to use our powers?”

“Fel, we-”

“Do you think the Halflord has it?”

I am silent for a long pause. Perhaps he does. If he does, then he’ll capture us. No doubt.

But...

“No, Fel, I don’t really think so, but it’s possible. Definitely possible.”