"Hmph," the lead soldier snorted, waving to the men behind him. "After them."
In an instant, the large group was gone, leaving behind a choking cloud of dust that stung the eyes.
The youth waved the dust from his face and opened his eyes, staring after the soldiers.
'Who on earth is that child, to have provoked the soldiers? And how could those useless government oafs possibly be a match for them?'
"What could a child so young have possibly done to get so many soldiers after them?" the guard muttered, staring after the retreating figures.
"Enough chatter. Find the silver needles."
"Yes, I'm almost done." The guard counted the eight needles in his hand. He was still three short.
About twenty minutes passed.
"Master, I only found ten. I've searched everywhere for the last one, but..." The guard's voice trailed off as he walked closer, the words catching in his throat.
