Page 74 of The Tribes of Magic
“That is very impressive.”
I jumped in surprise. Several of my branches shot toward the new arrival. They plunged into the earth in a neat circle around him, trapping him inside. I moved in for a closer look at my unintentional prisoner. It was a young man in his early 20s with messy sandy-blond hair, dressed in a Fixer jumpsuit. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing thick, suntanned arms, and his face was smudged with dirt.
He looked through the wood bars, meeting my eyes. “Whoa.”
“Sorry about that. You surprised me.”
I hummed a few notes to dismiss the wood wall, reshaping the pieces to connect them to my growing fence. The man took a few steps toward me, slow, tentative…and tired? I gave him a quick, visual once-over, and sure enough, there were dark circles under his eyes.
He was assessing me too. “You’re very powerful for an Apprentice.”
I brushed the dust and dirt off my shirt and shorts, then wiped the sweat from my brow. Black wouldn’t have been my first choice in this weather, but Apprentices didn’t get to pick what we wore. All our uniforms were black. Between the various Tribes of Magic, I guess all the other colors were already taken.
“I’m not like other Apprentices.” I sighed.
“I can see that,” he said, amused. “You’re Savannah Winters, aren’t you?”
“You’ve heard of me?”
“Of course. Hasn’t everyone?”
I winced.
He didn’t seem to notice. “I’m Brett.” He offered me his hand.
When I shook it, I couldn’t help but notice how warm his skin was. “Brett? As in, Brett Ashbridge?”
“You’ve heard of me? How?”
“From your grandmother. She asked me to find you.”
“My grandmother…”
“Yes. Is something wrong?”
“Savannah, both my grandmothers have been dead for years.”
“Wait, what?” I frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“So who’s the woman who asked me to find you?”
“I have no idea.”
“She’s about my height, in her early 60s, with long white hair drawn up into a bun. Oh, and she has a long, thin scar all the way down one side of her neck.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know who that is.”
Weird. I believed Brett when he said he didn’t know who the woman was who’d claimed to be his grandmother. But then who was she? How did she know Brett? And why did she want to find him? I needed more information.
“You’re a Fixer, right?” I asked Brett.
“I was.”
“Was?”
“I’m…in hiding.”
