Weaver's Curse

Chapter 1- In Which Kaedwyn Makes Her Grand Escape



Many things begin with an explosion, and many things end with an explosion.

One thing that began with an explosion was Kaedwyn’s freedom. And one thing that ended with that same explosion was the lives of her captors.

She ignored their writhing, screaming forms as she climbed out of the wreckage of the dark, windowless wagon they’d locked her in, glad that she hadn’t been thrown against the wall too hard when the explosion hit. None of them even thought of grabbing her as she wandered into the nearest alleyway. She doubted they’d even seen her through the smoke.

I wonder what caused that explosion, Kaedwyn thought as she wandered deeper into the alleyways.

Her captors might have been distracted at the moment, but eventually, one would pull themselves together enough to realize their luggage had escaped. Kaedwyn needed to get as far away as she could before that happened. And whoever had sabotaged their progress, she was grateful to them.

I hope at least half of those damn assholes got killed in that explosion, Kaedwyn thought, gritting her teeth against the pain in her side where the explosion had thrown her against the wall.

I am so tired of people snatching me claiming I’m a witch. I’m literally not.

Of course, none of her abductors thought to ask her that. Or did anything but laugh when she denied being a witch.

Assholes!

“Are you alright?” a voice asked. She looked up, and saw a teenaged boy sitting at the top of a stack of barrels, munching on a pear.

“Peachy.” Kaedwyn grunted, putting her head down and trudging past him.

If this kid turns me in I am going to be royally pissed.

“Are you sure? You look like you could use some help.”

“Nope. I certainly do not look like that.” Kaedwyn said, trying to pick up the pace.

Gah, that throbs!

“If you need help I can bring you to my caravan leader,” the boy offered.

“No. Thank. You.” Kaedwyn snapped.

“If you’re sure...” he called after her.

If he follows me...

A quick glance over her shoulder told her that he hadn’t moved from his spot on the barrels.

Looks like I’m going to have to take the long way out of the city to throw him off too.

Kaedwyn tried to make it less obvious that she was fleeing by meandering through the market place and fingering over a few goods.

“How much for a scarf?” she asked a shopkeeper. It might be a useful disguise.

“Two coppers.” He grunted.

“Do you take trades?” she asked.

“No.”

“Fair day, then.” Kaedwyn said.

He was busy counting through his money box, so it was easy for her to snag a scarf.

No screams of “Thief!” or “Pickpocket!” followed her as she continued through the marketplace and looped back into the alleyways.

Kaedwyn had been doing this long enough that being caught was barely a concern. Although, she’d never been particularly worried about that. She’d learned from the best.

I wonder how she’s doing now?

Kaedwyn paused and crouched behind a stack of crates. She wrapped the scarf around her mass of curly, beaded hair and tied the whole thing securely to the top of her head.

There, that should make me a little less recognizable.

Doing her best to ignore the pain in her side, she strode back out into the sunlight, towards the docks. What Kaedwyn didn’t notice was the man that had followed her through the alleyway and continued to trail her from a short distance.

He didn’t have an easy time of it, as she continued to loop and zigzag in hopes of losing any possible pursuers; but just as Kaedwyn was no novice at pickpocketing, he was no novice at tracking.

As long as Kaedwyn traversed the docks, which were swarming with sailors, fisherman, and peddlers, her tracker didn’t dare grab her. Doing so would likely end with him being beaten by a group of burly boatmen, which was not in his plans for the day.

Kaedwyn glanced behind her, feeling the prickly of eyes on the back of her neck, but saw no one suspicious. The docks were so crowded with people that it could have been anyone, but it felt like someone had been persistently watching her.

I’d say I’m just being paranoid, but every time I tell myself that I end up getting kidnapped again, Kaedwyn thought, suppressing a sigh.

If I were a damn witch I would’ve created myself an illusion by now because they clearly know my face.

She threw another glance over her shoulder, but saw no one specific.

So she ducked into an alleyway she thought led to a busy shopfront. She came out in front of a stretch of locked and deserted buildings that looked brand new.

Looks like these aren’t open yet. Damn.

She turned to walk back down the alley, but saw a man crouching there.

Oh hell no.

She looked both ways and began to jog back to where she thought people might be. The sun was starting to go, casting orange light over the empty buildings. The man followed her, also jogging. She’d gotten a head start, but he had the advantage of one side of his body not being a mess of bruises.

She’d made another miscalculation, and run further into the deserted stretch.

Kaedwyn stopped, nearly collapsing against a building, and started screaming.

“HELP! KIDNAPPER!” she screamed as loudly as she could. “KIDNAPPER! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!”

“Shut up, you dumb bitch,” the man said as he caught up to her. He decked her in the face, putting an abrupt stop to her screaming.

“Damn nasty trick that was, blowing up the carriage,” he snarled.

“What is it going to take to make you freaks believe I’m not a fucking witch?” Kaedwyn gasped.

“We literally just saw you blow up a carriage and you’re still denying it?” the man asked, pausing to glare down at her.

“If I could do something like that, I would’ve killed you assholes ages ago!”

There was a sudden sharp crack, and the man crumpled forward, revealing the boy from the alleyway holding a thick wooden club. Several other similarly aged boys stood ringed behind him.

“This guy bothering you?” he asked Kaedwyn.

“Yeah.”

“C’mon, we’ll take you to our caravan leader. Justin, go get the city watch and tell them that this fucker’s attempted to snatch someone. The rest of you guard him.”

“Got it, Basil.” A slender boy with a shaved head, presumably Justin, said.

Her head spinning from the blow to her face, Kaedwyn followed Basil back to his caravan.


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