Free The Spark of a Feudling by Wendy Knight Page A

tiny thing like you gonna do to big, brave men like us?” another asked. She couldn’t see their faces clearly in the dark, so she couldn’t be sure which one was speaking. Light would help. With a wicked smile, she sat back on her horse, letting the reins dangle.
    Sparks lit at her fingertips.
    â€œSorcerer!” Now that she could see their faces, she noticed that most of them were missing teeth. One man had only one eye.
    She tipped her head sideways, watching them with amused curiosity as they scrambled backward. “I did warn you,” she murmured.
    â€œPlease, we mean no harm!”
    â€œLiars.” She moved her hand so quickly it left trails through the blackness. The lirik burst from her hand, shooting toward the man closest to her. Three more followed as he screamed.
    Her horse stepped lightly over their writhing bodies, chuffing like he’d enjoyed her attack.
    â€œI am not a little girl,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at them. Their bodies glowed like dying embers in the darkness.
    Four more times she left bodies lying in the road, and it did nothing to quiet the hatred in her blood. If anything, it made her more hungry for battle, and as the sun rose she finally left the long stretch of forest and came to the outcroppings of the next town. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten — midday meal the day before, probably. And she had stupidly escaped without any money. “Brilliant, Ada. Absolutely brilliant.” On her father’s lands, the villagers had farms. Farms had food. Food that she could steal. But she didn’t see any farms here. However, if she didn’t eat, she would pass out during battle, and she could feel that the fight was close. So her first priority must be to find food.
    The village was still quiet. No one seemed to be awake yet. There was a tavern or an inn of some sort, and the makings of a huge building of some sort in the distance. But no people.
    Her father was fascinated by expansion. He had plans to have many grand buildings on his land, but so far he had only been watching and waiting. It would not please him to know their closest neighbors had already started construction.
    Beyond that, the village was smaller than her father’s. She loosened her grip on the big black horse’s mane and let him canter down the middle of the road while she studied the buildings — comparing, judging, and wondering if any of them had food. She’d never been this far from home. Unlike many of the other noble families, hers had never traveled. Her father was always too busy. Her mother went to London every season, but she’d never taken Ada with her.
    Ada nibbled her bottom lip. Berries? Didn’t people eat berries? She squinted, seeing the dark opening of the thick trees at the other end of the street. This town seemed to have etched itself right out of the forest, but the forest still fought to take its land back. “Let’s go, Horse.” She kicked lightly and he picked up the pace. I should really find out what this horse’s name is. Until then, it shall be Horse.
    The sun shone weakly through the trees as they left the village behind. Ada dismounted and fitted the bridle over Horse’s head before she wandered off the path, holding tight to the reins. He followed obediently, stopping to eat the thick grass when Ada paused. “If I were a berry, where would I—” She screeched and leaped back toward Horse as the bushes next to her rustled. Highwaymen she could handle, but what she could not see was much more frightening.
    Horse nudged her with his nose, as if reminding her that she was supposed to be a mighty warrior. Hands shaking, she willed the flames to come, feeling just a bit stronger when the sparks lit. She burned the spell into the air and waited for the monster to emerge.
    â€œIt is against the law for peasants to hunt on this land,” a voice said from behind her.