Squinting in the sunlight, I looked beyond the encampment’s border. Just the tops of the trees in the Illiais Jungle were visible. They reminded me of a time when I had stood on a platform built near the peak of the tallest tree in the jungle and had seen the flat expanse of the plateau for the first time. The sheer rock drop-off into the jungle had appeared to be an impossible climb. So why set up camp there? I wondered.
Moon Man leaned next to me. “The camp is an illusion.”
“Do you have enough warriors to attack?” I asked, thinking the illusion hid many more Vermin.
“Every one.”
“All—” The Sandseeds yelled a battle cry and dashed toward the camp.
Moon Man grabbed my arm, pulling me with him. “Stay with me.”
With Leif and Marrok right behind us, we followed the Sandseeds. When the first warriors crossed into the illusion, they disappeared from sight for a moment. The sound of rushing water reached my ears as the chimera dissipated.
I blinked a few times to adjust my vision to what the Daviians had concealed. The central fire remained the same. But instead of many Vermin around the flames, there stood only one man. The rest of the camp was empty.
CHAPTER 4
WHEN THE ILLUSION disappeared, so did the expanse of tents and all the Daviians. The lone man standing by the fire collapsed before the Sandseed warriors could reach him.
Evidence that a large army had camped here was imprinted on the ground. Although, by the time the Sandseed leaders restored order to the milling warriors, many of the Daviian tracks had been ruined.
And the only witness had taken poison.
“One of their Warpers,” Moon Man said, nudging the corpse with his bare foot. “He held the illusion and killed himself once it broke.”
“If you can clear the area, I might be able to tell you where they’ve gone,” Marrok said.
The Sandseed warriors returned to the copse of spine trees. Moon Man and I stayed by the fire as Marrok and Leif circled the camp. Marrok looked for physical evidence while Leif used his magic to smell the intentions of the Daviians.
I projected my mental awareness as far as I could. If I sought a specific person, then I could reach them from far away, but with a general search my magic could only extend about ten miles. I reached no one in the plateau, and the bounty of life in the jungle was too overwhelming to sort out.
When they had finished their circuit, Marrok and Leif returned. Their glum expressions reflected bad news.
“They’ve been gone for days. The majority of the tracks head east and west,” Marrok reported. “But I found some metal spikes with rope fibers in the ground near the edge of the plateau. A few Vermin could have climbed down into the jungle.”
I touched Leif’s arm. “The Zaltanas?”
“If the Vermin can even find our homestead among the trees, they’re still well protected,” he said.
“Even from one of the Warpers?” I asked.
Leif blanched.
“Are the ropes still there?” I asked Marrok.
“No. The others must have waited and either cut the rope or taken it along with them,” Marrok said.
“Do you know how many went down?” Moon Man asked.
“No.”
Leif said, “There were so many scents and emotions mixed together. The need for stealth and urgency predominated. They moved with a purpose and felt confident. The eastern group, though, had the most men and they…” Leif closed his eyes and sniffed the breeze. “I don’t know. I need to follow their trail for a while.”
Marrok led Leif to the eastern tracks. I asked Kiki and the other horses to come to us. While waiting for them, Moon Man and the other Story Weavers split the warriors into two groups, and sent two scouts, one to the west and the other to the east.
But what about those that went down the rope to the jungle? What about Cahil and Ferde? Were they even with the Daviians? And, if so, which way had they gone?
When the horses arrived, I grabbed my pack off Kiki’s saddle. Opening it, I pulled my rope out and headed for the rim of the plateau. I found one of the metal spikes Marrok had mentioned and tied the end of the rope to it. On my belly, I inched closer to the edge until I could see down into the jungle.
The sides of the cliff appeared to be smooth, with no hand-holds in sight. I tossed the rope over, but knew it wouldn’t reach the bottom far below. The end stopped a quarter of the way down. Even with a longer rope, the climb looked dangerous. Water sprayed out of fissures in the rock face about halfway down. The stones below glistened.
I considered the descent. A desperate person might attempt it, but Leif’s assessment of the Vermin hadn’t included desperation.
Moon Man waited for me by the horses.
“When the scouts return, we will set out,” he said.
A notion that had been bothering me finally clicked. “Your people have swept the plateau and have been watching the camp. How could the Vermin slip away without you knowing?”
“A few of their Warpers had been Story Weavers. They must have learned to make a null shield.”
“That would only hide their presence from a magical search. What about seeing them?”
Before Moon Man could answer, a shout rang out. Leif, Marrok and the scout ran toward us.
“Found a trench,” Marrok panted.
“Heading east then north.” The scout gestured.
“Ill intent,” Leif said.
North toward the Avibian Plains. Toward the Sandseeds’ unprotected lands because their warriors were here in the plateau. Every one.
Moon Man covered his face with his hands as if he needed to block out the distractions and think.
The second scout arrived from the west. Puffs of sand from his passage reached us before he did.
“Another trench?” Marrok asked.
“The trail ends. They doubled back.” The scout reported.
Moon Man dropped his hands and began shouting orders, sending the warriors northeast at a run, ordering the Story Weavers to make contact with the people who stayed behind on the plains.
“Come on,” he said, turning to join the others.
“No,” I said.
He stopped and looked back. “What?”
“Too obvious. I don’t think Cahil would go along with that.”
“Then where did he go?” Moon Man demanded.
“The bulk of the Daviians went east, but I think a smaller group either went west or south.”
“My people are in trouble,” Moon Man said.
“And so are mine,” I replied. “You go with your warriors. If I’m wrong, we’ll catch up with you.”
“And if you are right, then what?”
Then what, indeed. There were only three of us.
“I will go with you,” Moon Man said. He called one of the Story Weavers and a touch of magic pricked my skin as they linked their minds.
Not wanting to intrude on their mental conversation, I focused on finding Cahil. I examined the edge of the plateau. A branch from one of the tall jungle trees reached toward the cliff. I could use my grapple and rope and hook it—
No, Leif said in my mind. Suicide.
I frowned at him. But I could swing—
No.
Nutty could do it. Our cousin climbed trees as if valmur blood coursed through her veins.
You’re not Nutty.
I reluctantly abandoned that course of action. Even if I could swing to the tree, I doubted anyone else would follow me. Then I would be alone. I berated myself for being worried about being on my own: living in Sitia had made me soft.
It has made you smarter, Leif said. Then he added, not much smarter, but we can still hope for improvement.
“Where to?” Tauno asked as he joined our group.
I looked at Moon Man.
He shrugged. “He is better at scouting than fighting. We will need him,” he said with certainty.
I sighed at the implication. “West.”
Perhaps we would find a better way down into the jungle or, failing that, we would follow the plateau’s edge west toward the Cowan Clan’s lands. Once in Cowan land, we would turn south into the forest then loop east into the Illiais Jungle. And hope we weren’t too late.
We mounted the horses. Tauno and Marrok once again led us. The point where the Daviians had turned around was obvious even to me. The hard-packed sand had been scuffed where they stopped, and only flat unblemished sand continued westward.
Tauno halted the horses and waited for more instructions.
“A ruse. I can smell deceit and smugness,” Leif said.
“Why so smug?” I asked. “Laying a false trail is a basic strategy.”
“It could be Cahil,” Marrok said. “He tends to think he is smarter than everyone. Perhaps he thought this would fool the Sandseeds into sending half their warriors in the wrong direction.”
I projected my magical awareness over the smooth sand. A few mice skittered into the open, searching for food. A snake curled on a warm rock, basking in the afternoon sun. I encountered a strange dark mind.
I withdrew my awareness and scanned the plateau. Sure enough there was a small area a few feet away where the sand looked pliant, as if it had been dug up and packed back down. I slid off Kiki and walked over to the patch. The sand felt spongy beneath my boots.
“A Vermin must have buried something there,” Marrok said.
Tauno snorted with disgust. “You have probably found one of their waste pits.”
With Moon Man still on her back, Kiki came closer. Smell damp, she said.
Bad damp or good damp? I asked.
Just damp.
Taking my grapple out of my pack, I started to dig. The others watched me with various expressions of amusement, distaste and curiosity.
When I had dug down about a foot, my grapple struck something hard. “Help me clear the sand.”
My reluctant audience joined me. But eventually we uncovered a flat piece of wood.
Marrok rapped his knuckles on it and proclaimed it the top of a box. Working faster to remove the sand, we sought the edges. The round lid was about two feet in diameter.
While Tauno and Moon Man discussed why the Vermin would bury a circle box, I found the lip and pried the top up. A gulp of air almost sucked the lid back down.
Everyone was stunned into silence. The lid covered a hole in the ground. And, judging by the pull of air into its depths, a very deep hole.
CHAPTER 5
THE SUNLIGHT ILLUMINATED a few feet of the hole. Below the lip a couple rough steps had been cut into the sandstone.
“Can you sense anyone in there?” Leif asked.
Pulling a thread of power, I projected into the darkness. My awareness touched many of those dark minds, but no people.
“Bats,” I said. “Lots of bats. You?”
“Just smug satisfaction.”
“Could this be another false trail?” Marrok asked.
“Or a trap?” Tauno asked. He glanced around with quick furtive movements as if worried the sand would erupt with Vermin.
“One of us needs to go inside and report back,” Moon Man said, looking at Tauno. “I knew we would need a scout.”
Tauno jerked as if he had stepped on a hot coal. Sweat ran down his face. He swallowed. “I will need a light.”
Leif retrieved his saddlebags and removed one of his cooking sticks. “This won’t burn long,” he said. He set the end on fire and handed the stick to Tauno.
With the flaming stick to lead the way, the Sandseed scout crawled into the opening headfirst. Tempted to link my mind with his to see what he found, I forced myself to focus instead on the ground beneath my feet, trying to discover a sign of life that would indicate the end of the cave.
The jungle’s pulse throbbed in my soul, but I couldn’t tell if it came from an opening below the ground or just from being so close to it on the plateau.
Waiting proved difficult. I imagined all types of hazards in Tauno s way and was convinced he had fallen and broken a leg or worse when he appeared at the hole’s opening.
“The steps lead to a big cavern with many tunnels and ledges. I spotted a few footprints in the dirt, but had to come back before my light died,” Tauno said. “I also heard water gurgling nearby.”
Now we knew. Vermin had gone through the cave.
“Leif, what do you need to make a light last longer?” I asked him.
“You’re not thinking about going in there, are you?” Marrok asked, sounding horrified.
“Of course. You want to find Cahil, don’t you?”
“What makes you so certain he went that way?”
I looked at Leif. Together we said, “Smug satisfaction.”
While Leif and Tauno returned to the Daviian camp for firewood, Moon Man and I discussed what to do with the horses. We would need Marrok’s tracking skills and Tauno s keen sense of direction to find our way through the cavern. Leif and I needed to take Cahil back to the Council, so that left Moon Man.
“I am not staying behind,” Moon Man said.
“Someone needs to feed and water the horses,” I said.
Kiki snorted at me. I opened my mind to her.
Don’t need, she said. We wait then go.
Go where?
Market. An image of the Illiais Market formed in my mind. As the main southern trading post for Sitia, the market was tucked between the western edge of the Illiais Jungle and Cowan Clan lands.
How do you know about the market? I asked.
Know land like know grass.
I smiled. Kiki’s concise view of life kept surprising me with its many layers of emotion. If I could view the world the same way, I knew it would make my life easier.
Moon Man had been watching me. “Perhaps Kiki should mentor you.”
“On what? How to become a Soulfinder?”
“No. You are a Soulfinder. She can help you be a Soulfinder.”
“More cryptic Story Weaver advice?”
“No. Clear as air.” Moon Man drew a deep breath and grinned at me. “Let us get the horses ready.”
We removed their bridles and reins and packed the tack into their saddlebags. When Leif and Tauno returned, we sorted our supplies, distributing them among our packs and repacking the rest into the saddlebags. The horses would keep their saddles on, but we made sure nothing would hang down or impede their motion.
My pack weighed heavier than usual, but I had an uneasy intuition we might need a few of the items inside.
When we were ready, Leif lit the firewood torches dipped in the plant oil he had stored in Rusalka’s saddlebags. He left most of his odd concoctions and medicines behind, boasting he could find anything we needed in the jungle.
“If we find a way out,” Marrok muttered. “What will we do if we become lost in the caves?”
“That will not happen,” Moon Man said. “I will mark our way with paint. If we can not find our way through, we will return to the plateau. The horses will wait until Yelena tells them to go.”
Moon Man wrapped his muscular arm around Marrok’s shoulders. Marrok tensed as if he expected a blow.
“Trust yourself, Tracker. You have never been lost,” Moon Man said.
“I have never been inside a cave.”
“Then it will be a new experience for both of us.” Moon Man’s eyes glinted with anticipation, but Marrok hunched his back.
I wasn’t a stranger to small dark places. Before becoming the Commander’s food taster, I had spent a year in the Commander’s dungeon awaiting execution. While I wasn’t anxious to return to a confined space, I would push past my nerves to recapture Ferde.
“There are a few caves in the jungle,” Leif said. “Most of them are used as dens by the tree leopards and are avoided, but I’ve explored some.” His gaze met mine and, by the sad smile, I knew he had searched those caves looking for me.
Tauno and Marrok each held a torch. With Tauno leading the way, I followed, crawling headfirst through the small opening. Leif was close behind, then Marrok and finally Moon Man.
The torchlight illuminated the three-foot-wide tunnel. Shovel marks scraped the rough walls, indicating the space had been dug. The steps turned into bumps that helped slow our progress as we slid down the sloped passageway. I coughed as the dust of our passing mixed with the steady flow of cool damp air.
When we reached the cavern, the tightness around my ribs eased. Tauno’s light reflected off stones resembling teeth. A few of these hung from the ceiling and others rose from the ground as if we stood inside the mouth of a giant beast.
“Don’t move,” Marrok ordered as he examined the floor.
Shadows danced on the pockmarked walls as Marrok searched for signs. Deep wells of blackness indicated other tunnels, and small puddles of water peppered the floor. Dripping and running water filled the air with a pleasant hum that countered the unpleasant wet mineral smell mixed with a sharp animal musk.
Moon Man hunched his shoulders and short breaths punctuated his breathing.
“Is something wrong?” I asked him.
“The walls press on me. I feel squeezed. No doubt my imagination.” He went to mark the tunnel to the surface with red paint.
“This way,” Marrok said. Amplified by either the stone walls or by fear, his voice sounded louder than usual. He showed us a series of ledges descending down a chute.
The smell rising from the chute turned sharp and rank. I gagged. Tauno climbed down. The ledges turned out to be large chucks of rocks stacked crookedly on top of one another. In certain places he hung over the side and dropped down. We followed and with some mumbling and cursing we caught up to Tauno.
He waited on the last visible ledge. Beyond him, the chute ended in a pit of blackness. Tauno dropped his torch. It landed on a rock floor far below.
“Too far to jump,” Tauno said.
I pulled the grapple from my pack and wedged the metal hooks into a crack, glad I had decided to bring it along. Tying the rope onto the hook, I tested the grapple’s grip. Secure for now, but Moon Man braced himself and gripped the rope when Tauno swung over the edge and descended.
Moon Man’s forehead dripped with sweat despite the cool air. His uneven breathing echoed off the walls. When Tauno reached near the bottom, Moon Man released the rope. The grapple held Tauno’s weight. He jumped the last bit and picked up the torch, exploring the area before giving us the all-clear signal. One by one we joined him at the bottom of the chute. We left the grapple in place in case we needed to return.
“I have some good news and some bad,” Tauno said.
“Just tell us,” Marrok barked.
“There is a way out of this chamber, but I doubt Moon Man or Leif will fit.” Tauno showed us a small opening. The torch’s flame flickered in the breeze coming from the channel.
I looked at Leif. Even though Marrok was taller than him, Leif had wide shoulders. How had Cahil and Ferde fit through? Or had they traveled a different way? It was hard to judge size based on a memory. Perhaps they hadn’t encountered any trouble.
“First explore the tunnel. See what’s on the other side,” I instructed.
Tauno disappeared into the hole with a quick grace. Leif crouched next to the opening, examining it.
“I have more plant oil,” Leif said. “Perhaps we can grease our skin and slide through?” He stepped back when Tauno’s light brightened the passageway.
“It gets wider about ten feet down and ends in another cavern,” Tauno said. Black foul-smelling muck covered his feet. When questioned about the mud, he wiggled his toes. “The source of the stench. Bat guano. Lots of it.”
Those ten feet took us the longest to traverse. And I despaired at the amount of time we used to squeeze two grown men through a narrow space. It might be impossible to catch up with Cahil and the others. And Moon Man’s panic attack when he had become wedged for a moment had set everyone’s mood on edge.
Standing ankle deep in bat droppings, we made for a miserable group. My dismay reflected in everyone’s face. And it wasn’t due to the putrid and acidic smell. Leif’s shoulders were scratched raw and bloody, and the skin on Moon Man’s arms looked shredded. Blood dripped from his hands.
Moon Man’s breathing rasped. “Go back. We should…go back.” He panted. “Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.”
I suppressed my worries about Cahil. Connecting with the power source, I gathered a fiber of magic and sought Moon Man’s mind. A claustrophobic fear had pushed logic and reason aside. I probed deeper into his thoughts to find the strong unflappable Story Weaver, reminding him of the importance of our journey. A Sandseed Story Weaver would not let himself panic. Moon Man’s breathing settled as calm reclaimed his emotions. I withdrew from his mind.
“I am sorry. I do not like this cave,” Moon Man said.
“No one does,” Leif muttered.
Keeping my thread of magic, I focused on Moon Man’s arms. Large chunks of his skin had been gouged out. My upper limbs burned with pain as I concentrated on his injuries. When I could no longer endure the stinging fire, I used magic to push it away from me. I swayed with relief and would have fallen to the floor if Leif hadn’t grabbed me.
Moon Man examined his arms. “I could not lend you my strength this time,” he said. “Your magic held me immobile.”
“What’s this?” Leif asked.
He raised my hand into the light. Blood streaked my skin, but I couldn’t find any damage. When I had helped Tula, one of Ferde’s victims and Opal’s sister, Irys had speculated that I had assumed her injuries then healed myself. I guessed it had been the same with Marrok’s crushed cheek. But seeing the physical evidence turned Irys’s theory into reality. I stared at the blood and felt light-headed.
“That’s interesting,” Leif said.
“Interesting in a good way or bad?” I asked.
“I don’t know. No one has done that before.”
I appealed to Moon Man.
“A couple Story Weavers have the power to heal, but not like that,” he said. “Perhaps it is something only a Soulfinder can do.”
“Perhaps? You don’t know? Then why have you led me to believe you know everything about me?” I demanded.
He rubbed his newly healed arm. “I am your Story Weaver. I do know everything about you. However, I do not know everything about Soulfinders. Do you define yourself strictly by that title?”
“No.” I avoided the title.
“Well then,” he said, as if that settled the matter.
“Let’s go,” Marrok said through his shirt. He had covered his nose and mouth to block the smell. “The Daviians’ trail through this muck is easy to follow.”
With Marrok in the lead, we stepped with care. About halfway through the bats’ cavern, I sensed an awakening. Sending a thin tendril of power, I linked with the dark minds above me as they floated toward a collective consciousness. Their need for food pushed at me, and, through them, I felt the exact location of each bat, of each wall, of each exit, of each rock, and each figure below. They launched.
“Duck!” I yelled as the cloud of flying creatures descended.
The drone of beating wings reached a crescendo as black bodies flew around us. The air swirled and filled with bats. They deftly avoided knocking into us or each other as they headed toward the exit, seeking the insects and berries of the jungle.
My mind traveled with them. The instinctual exodus of thousands of bats flying through the tight tunnels of the cave was as organized as a military attack. And like any well-planned event, it took time for all the bats to leave.
The muscles in my legs burned when I finally straightened. The flapping and fluttering sounds echoed from the tunnels then faded. I looked at my companions. No one appeared to be hurt, although a few of us were splattered with dung.
Marrok had dropped his torch, and his arms covered his head. He puffed with alarm.
“Captain Marrok,” I said, hoping to calm him. “Give me your torch.”
My order pierced his panic. He picked up the unlit stick. “Why?”
“Because the bats have shown me the way out.” I cringed as my hand closed on the muck-covered handle. “Leif, can you relight this?”
Leif nodded. Flames grew. When the torch burned on its own, he asked, “How far to the jungle?”
“Not far.” I led the group, setting a quick pace. No one complained. All were as eager as I to exit the cave.
The sound of rushing water and a glorious freshness to the air were the only signs we had reached our destination. The day had turned into night while we had traveled through the cave.
From the bats, I knew water flowed along the floor of the exit and dropped down about twenty feet to the jungle. The waterfall splashed onto a tumble of rocks.
The others followed me to the edge of the stream. We doused the torches and waited for our eyes to adjust to the weak moonlight. I scanned the jungle below with my magic, searching for signs of an ambush and for tree leopards. Necklace snakes were also a danger to us, but the only life I touched were small creatures scurrying through the underbrush.
“Prepare to get wet,” I said before wading into the cold knee-deep water.
My boots filled immediately as I sloshed to the edge. There were plenty of rocks below to climb on, but they were either under the water or wet. I eased off my backpack and threw it down, aiming for a dry spot on the rocky bank.
“Be careful,” I instructed.
I turned around and crouched, leaning into the force of the water. Keeping my face above the stream, I stuck my feet over the edge and felt for a foothold. By the time I reached the bottom, my clothes were soaked. At least the water had washed away the foul-smelling dung.
Once everyone climbed down, we stood dripping and shivering on the bank.
“Now what?” Leif asked.
“It’s too dark to see trail signs,” Marrok said. “Unless we make more torches.”
I looked at our ragtag group. I had a dry change of clothes in my backpack, but Tauno and Moon Man had nothing with them. The bank was big enough for a fire. “We need to dry off and get some rest.”
“You need to die,” a loud voice said from the jungle.
CHAPTER 6
ARROWS RAINED DOWN. Tauno cried out as one pierced his shoulder.
“Find cover,” Marrok ordered. An arrow jutted from his thigh.
We scrambled for the underbrush. Moon Man dragged Tauno with him. Marrok fell. An arrow whizzed by my ear and thudded into a tree trunk. Another slammed into my backpack before I dived under a bush.
I scanned the treetops with my magic, but couldn’t sense anyone.
“Null shield,” Moon Man shouted. “No magic.”
Marrok lay in the open, unmoving. Arrows continued to fly, but they missed him. He stared at the sky.
“Curare!” I yelled. “The arrows are laced with Curare.”
The ambushers wanted to paralyze us, not kill us. At least not yet. The memory of being completely helpless from the drug washed over me. Alea Daviian had wanted revenge for her brother’s death, so she had pricked me with Curare and carted me to the plateau to torture and kill me.
Leif yelped nearby. An arrow had nicked his cheek. “Theobroma?” he asked before his face froze.
Of course! My father’s Theobroma, which had saved me from Alea. I ripped open my pack, searching for the antidote to Curare. The rain of arrows slowed, and a rustling noise from above meant our attackers were climbing down. Probably to take better aim. I found the brown lumps of Theobroma and put one into my mouth, immediately chewing and swallowing it.
Moon Man cursed and I broke cover to run to him. An arrow hit my back. The force slammed me to the ground. Pain rippled through my body.
“Yelena!” Moon Man grabbed my outstretched arm and pulled me to him.
“Here.” I panted as the Curare numbed the throb in my lower back. “Eat this.”
He ate the Theobroma lump without a moment’s hesitation. An arrow’s shaft had pinned his tunic to a tree.
I lost feeling in my legs. “Are you hit?”
He ripped his shirt free and examined the skin along his right side. “No.”
“Pretend to be,” I whispered. “Wait for my signal.”
Sudden understanding flashed in his deep brown eyes. He broke the shaft off the arrow that had missed him, and swiped blood from my back. Lying down, he held the shaft between two bloody fingers of his left hand which he placed on his stomach, making it look like the arrow had pierced his gut. His right hand gripped his scimitar.
Men called as they reached the jungle floor. Before they could discover me, I put my right hand into my pant’s pocket, palming the handle of my switchblade. Numbness spread throughout my torso, but the Theobroma countered the Curare’s effects to a point where limited movement remained. Even so, I lay still, pretending to be paralyzed.
“I found one,” a man said.
“Over here’s another.”
“I found two,” a rough voice right above me said.
“That’s the rest of them. Make sure they’re incapacitated before you drag them out. Dump them beside their companion in the clearing,” said a fourth voice.
The rough-voiced man kicked me in the ribs. Pain ringed my chest and stomach. I clamped my teeth together to suppress a grunt. When he grabbed my ankles and hauled me through the bushes and over the uneven stones of the bank, I was a bit glad for the Curare in my body. It dulled the burning sting as the left side of my face and ear were rubbed raw by the ground.
The Curare also dulled my emotions. I knew I should be terrified, yet felt only mild concern. Curare’s ability to paralyze my magic remained the most frightening aspect of the drug. Even though the Theobroma counteracted it, Theobroma had its own side effect. The antidote opened a person’s mind to magical influence. While I could use magic, now I had no defense against another’s magic.