Thayne’s eyes shot open and he realised he had been woken yet again by his bed creaking as he moved in his sleep. Light was starting to peek through his open window and he drew his blanket up in protest. But the thin blanket was no protection, so without some serious, and noisy, movement, he wasn’t going to be getting back to sleep.

His eyelids heavy, Thayne sat up after a couple of tries and got out of bed. He looked down at his school robes, still lying where he’d left them the night before, in a pile next to the old fisherman’s cloak, both now smelling strongly of fish. He picked up his pack, intending to find a change of clothing, and hesitated. His clothes all marked him as a wizard and he wasn’t supposed to draw attention to himself. He had nothing to wear and he doubted John would have anything he could wear. He set the pack on the end of the bed and started rummaging through it in the hopes that something would be less conspicuous. As he dug deeper his hand brushed the spine of the book. With a glance around the room, Thayne went to the door and discovered there was no way to lock it. Returning to the bed he hesitated. Should he? His curiosity got the better of him and he started pulling everything from his bag until he gently pulled the book out, his eyes darting around the room.

He sat for a moment stroking the brown leather cover. What would happen when he opened it? Should he open it? What if he unleashed something horrible? But what could be so important about this plain-looking old book? Curiosity won again as he lifted the front cover a fraction, ready to slam it shut. The yellowing first page crackled. But nothing happened. He lifted the cover a little more. Nothing. Impatient, he flung the cover back and a bright light shone in his eyes. Thayne’s heart leapt in horror and he panicked for a second, until he realised that it was just the rising sun, starting to shine directly into his window. The front page of the book was blank. He turned the page and discovered the title page. It said: The Wonders and Mysteries of Kalven, by Himlas Wintrobe. Thayne frowned in confusion. It wasn’t even a magic book; it was a history book. He flicked forward and skimmed the text. The book was entirely useless. Full of well-known facts about the world and its inhabitants. Like about how Niva Niva Island is really a small cluster of swampy islands that only the pirates who live there know how to navigate. He flicked back to the first chapter and snorted. There was actually a whole chapter on how the world is flat, a cube spinning in space. Who doesn’t know that? Excepting of course the epists of Tir Al Eli. They clung to the ridiculous notion that the world is round.

Thayne flicked back to the title page. There was a line he hadn’t noticed before. It said: Earth edition. Thayne frowned again. Does that mean it was written for Geomancers? It made absolutely no sense.

He found a table of contents on the next page and was going to turn to the last chapter entitled: Directions for Tourists. He had no idea what ‘tourists’ was. But he heard a sound outside his window and slammed the book shut, turning towards the sound as he did so. There was a flash of movement but it was gone before Thayne could see what it was. He hurried to the window and saw part of a brown cloak as its owner vanished into the trees. His heart pounding, Thayne wrapped the book in his school robes and shoved it deep into his pack.

He dressed in a pair of black leggings and a white undershirt and hitched a belt around his waist. He felt ridiculous and naked wearing just his underwear but he couldn’t wear any of his robes. He had just finished repacking the rest of his things when the door opened and John entered. He took in Thayne’s clothes and held out a cloak to him. It was a faded brown. Which didn’t mean anything, Thayne reminded himself as he took it.

“You should buy some new clothes as soon as you can. You still look like a Magik boy. You should stop looking down your nose at normal folk too.”

“I–I’m not. I–”

John shook his head and held his hands out. “I don’t care. I’m just saying. One of your kind would never wear a cloak like that,” he nodded at the fisherman’s cloak still on the floor, “if you weren’t trying to hide something.”

Thayne nodded reluctantly and grudgingly replied, “Thank you.”

“So you really don’t know about…” John inclined his head towards the wall separating Thayne’s room from the unconscious woman’s. “You can’t tell?”

“Tell what? What are you talking about?”

John frowned and shook his head. “Perhaps you’re not Magik.” John shook his head again and left the room muttering to himself.

Thayne’s anger flared but he didn’t have time to wonder about John’s strange words, because as soon as he left the room Glenda was in the doorway.

“You ready to go? John’s taking you in the cart to town. We need some supplies anyway. You can find a boat there.” Her eyes wandered towards the wall but she snapped them back to Thayne. “All packed?”

“There’s just this,” Thayne replied bending down and picking up the smelly cloak. “But I don’t really need it now—”

“Just leave it where it is,” Glenda waved dismissively. “Let’s get your things to the cart. You can have one of my stretchers for the girl, it will make it easier to transport her.”

Within five minutes, Thayne’s pack and the occupied stretcher were loaded in the back of a small cart with a donkey in its harness. John sat with an impassive expression holding the reins as Thayne turned to Glenda. She hardly noticed him as she bustled around the garden picking flowers and herbs, alternating between humming and muttering to herself.

“I just wanted to thank you for your help,” he said awkwardly, not sure if she had heard him.

“That’s nice,” she replied without even looking up.

Glenda threw her collected plants into a pot lined with smoke grass. A grass that when burned produced a substantial amount of pungent and odious smoke. Thayne gazed into the pot and recognised honeysuckle and thyme before he realised Glenda was lighting it and backed away hastily. A thick cloud of smoke followed him.

“What are–”

“Goodbye,” Glenda called as she picked up the pot and entered the house, muttering to herself.

Thayne turned to the cart and looked at John, who was staring at the donkey’s ears with an intense concentration.

Thayne sighed and climbed up to sit next to John, who wordlessly handed him a carrot tied to a stick.

Thayne swung it out in front of the donkey, which suddenly lunged forward, actually catching the carrot and almost ripping the stick from Thayne’s hands. The carrot was gone but John gave the donkey a gentle nudge with the reins and she kept moving.

“Sorry, should have warned you. She’s very sensitive. She won’t move without some coaxing.”

“I’ll bet,” Thayne replied, as he pulled some of the larger splinters from his hands. “What was wrong with Glenda this morning?”

John glanced at Thayne and shifted on the seat before replying, “Yeah, sorry about her too. She’s just a mite more superstitious than I am.”

“This is about her again isn’t it?” Thayne asked nodding at the back of the cart.

“Look, boy, don’t worry about it. You’ve come this far with her and nothing’s happened. Besides, no harm will come to her while you’re with her.” John looked down at the reins in his hands and avoided Thayne’s gaze.

Thayne smiled. Then grew serious again. “What do you mean, ‘I’ve come this far with her?’”

“Well, you said you came from Penn, right? So you’ve travelled at least five days with her already.”

Thayne noticed how carefully John was watching the road in front of him and frowned. “I guess…”

“The town’s not far. We’ll be there soon.”

The trip actually took the better part of the day with John steering the conversation. Whenever Thayne tried to bring it back to what he wanted to know, John somehow managed to take them off in a completely different direction, misinterpreting the question, not seeming to hear or distracting Thayne by starting a random, unrelated story or conversation that went on and on until Thayne realised it wouldn’t end without his intervention. John had pulled out a sack of food, more of the meat, bread and cheese from the night before a few hours in to the trip and after they had eaten had given the rest to Thayne to put in his pack. Thayne thanked him graciously and the duel of words had continued with renewed vigour, at least for a short while. By the time the town came into sight, Thayne was slumped in silent sullen defeat, knowing nothing more than when the trip started.