Hi, all! Annabelle Hawthorne back yet again with "This is what I'm thinking about during big family meals and someone says "hey, you're really quiet, what's going on?" and I'm all "Uh...I'm just really enjoying this...beef?""
Turns out I was eating pork.
To all the new readers, consider this your Gandalf moment. Should you step into this chapter with no previous knowledge of the story, you will likely topple into the depths of confusion. Unlike Gandalf, you probably won't come back to life with a new wardrobe and a Devil-may-care attitude, but I'm not the one writing your story, so go right ahead.
Returning readers, welcome back! While all those new readers are jumping back to Ch. 001, let's break out the good snacks, I've got some leftover Halloween candy, some cinnamon bread from my neighbor, and a bottle of sparkling apple cider that I found in the discount bin at my grocery store.
As always, I want to take the time to thank you all for your continued support and enthusiasm regarding this story. Dozens of hours go into each chapter, so I've really felt appreciated when you take the time to leave your comments, send me feedback, and drop all those stars for me. It only takes a few moments, but it has made a world of difference.
To answer some common questions I've been getting:
Yes, I gave up on serious search terms quite some time ago
No, I will not send you feet pics
I've never seen It's a Wonderful Life, I prefer Scrooged
Virgil Knightley is a huge weeb, but I adore him
Around 64 ounces a day
I aim for two chapters a month, but I miss sometimes, check the bio
Caramelized onions are supposed to take at least an hour, anyone who tells you different is lying
(okay, so some of these questions didn't come from you all)
A special thanks again to my beta readers, like the Mikes, Dragonsen, Pastor, Zing, and Lit's own TJ Skywind. They always give me great advice and have helped me to share a good, clean product with you all. And yes, they do fight on occasion, much like anytime you try to mix
Fire and Water
The spiraling staircase was narrow, barely large enough for two people to walk side by side. Ingrid licked her lips and let out a silent cough, hoping to hide the fact that she was just testing to see if the Director's spell had worn off. Though some of her abilities didn't need verbal components, there was generally some sort of vocalization required, much like the kiai a martial artist might shout. It acted more as a mental focus than anything else, and Ingrid vowed to start practicing magic without it.
However, that was a future problem. Right now, she was descending toward the holding cells with a knight at her back. Without words to convince him that the Order was being duped by the Director, the only path remaining was action. With her hands bound in metal cuffs the Director had slapped on her and a wary captor, she was uncertain what that action would even be.
A tremor ran through the building. Ingrid and her escort paused, both of them looking up as a layer of dirt fell from the ceiling. She looked back at the knight, who simply shrugged and gestured down with his blade.
"Keep moving," he said. "I know you don't understand what's going on now, but a few days in Quarantine with a therapist will get your head back on straight."
Ingrid lifted her hands high enough for him to see her middle fingers.
"C'mon, Sister Ingrid, this is classic Stockholm Syndrome." The man sighed in disappointment. "Or some sort of enchantment, which is more likely. We had to sedate the survivors from your team. They were ranting like lunatics last night."
Ahead of them, a section of wall clicked open. Aurora stepped through, clutching a clipboard to her chest. For a moment, it looked like the woman was surprised to see them, but she collected herself.
"Director wants me to speak with her once she's secure," Aurora said, then lifted her clipboard. "To get some initial data for the Council to look at and maybe find some holes in their story. We're already re-classifying the Caretaker's threat level, but if he can do this..."
"Yeah, it's pretty bad. I heard they even sent most of the staff home to prevent casualties." The knight used the flat of his blade to push Ingrid against the wall as they passed the hostess. "It sucks knowing that our own can be turned against us. Stay behind me."
"Of course." Aurora followed them in silence. There was another loud thud from above, but nobody stopped this time. Ingrid felt the spell around her mouth vanish, but said nothing. It was two versus one, now, and the odds were heavily stacked against her. They got to the bottom of the stairwell and stepped into a concrete hallway. At the end was a bank of cells with small monitoring windows.
"Where are the guards?" asked Aurora as she peered through the nearest window. "Shouldn't there be a full team watching them?"
"It's just me," said the knight. "The Director has the others taking the Caretaker to the docks to hand him over to the merfolk. They should be back--"
There was a loud crackling sound, followed by a solid thud. Ingrid turned around to see that the knight was on the ground, convulsing wildly. Aurora had dropped her clipboard and was clutching a stun baton, which she continued to jab into the man's back.