It all started after Evin had finished sweeping the pub at the inn. Evin’s father ran Hesiod’s only inn and he expected Evin and his brother Marten to learn the trade—but all that meant was that Evin and Marten got stuck doing all the work that Father didn’t want to do.

Late that afternoon, Father had found Evin and Marten practicing pick pocketing on the inn’s patrons. They weren’t stealing anything valuable—just handkerchiefs, like usual—but it didn’t matter. Father yelled and sent Evin to his room where he’d stewed, feeling trapped behind the walls of that stupid inn.

So Evin made a plan. After Father let Marten off work for the day, he and Jorick and his brother would all set out on the adventure they’d always dreamed of, with no fathers and no ridiculous expectations.

Only, Jorick had refused to go. He had never before said no to anything Evin asked. The only way to settle it, Evin decided, was a fight into submission.

Jorick shrugged his broad shoulders as he stood. He looked up at Evin. “Does it really have to be tonight? Can’t we at least have a day to pack?”

Evin shook his head. “Nope. It has to be tonight. I’m not going to sleep in that stupid inn ever again.”

“What about saying good-bye to my dad?”

“You can write him a letter, but after we’re far enough away that no one can follow.”

Jorick hunched down. He didn’t say anything. Evin kicked him lightly in the shin.

“It will be all right, Jorick,” he said. “It’s not like we won’t come back some day to visit and—”

Without a word, Jorick barreled toward Evin, meaty arms held wide. Evin spun to the right, ducked under Jorick’s arms, spun once more, and leaped onto Jorick’s exposed back. The stockier boy stumbled forward, his hands grasping at the empty space where Evin had stood only a moment before.

“You know you’re never going to beat me,” Evin said into Jorick’s ear. “You should just stop trying.”

Jorick tried to peel Evin’s fingers loose. He staggered backward, deeper and deeper into the woods.

Evin laughed and hung on tight, enjoying the forced piggyback ride. Then, he felt his back hit a wall.

A sharp, electric tingle coursed through Evin’s body and he yelped. His brain grew fuzzy. Goose bumps prickled his skin. Searing pain lanced the back of his shoulders, his neck, his head. Bright light reflecting off the wall seemed to envelope Evin. For a moment, his mind went blank except for two words: get away.

Evin hollered and his friend stepped forward, allowing him to fall to the dirt. Gasping for air, Evin squeezed his eyes shut to block out the light. Cool relief washed over him as the electric tingle, the fuzziness around his brain, and the heat faded away.