A Second Generation Whateley Academy Adventure
Glyph 5: Turning the Page
by
Morpheus
Part Two
Chicago Il, Friday late afternoon, Nov 25th 2016
I was tied to a chair in the middle of a room which looked like a vacant office. The room was almost completely empty, with no furniture remaining, though I could still see imprints in the carpet where a desk and bookshelves had previously been.
My hands rested in my lap, locked inside a metal box that was about the size of a shoe box. As soon as my hands had been placed inside, something had filled the space and then instantly hardened, almost as though my hands had been shoved into wet cement. From what I could see of the former opening around my wrists, the material that had filled the inside had been some kind of metal, though a different metal than what the outside of the box was made of.
“Some kind of devise,” I thought aloud. I tried moving my hands again but I couldn’t even twitch my fingers. They were well and truly trapped in that box. “Great…”
I thought about how I could escape, but absolutely nothing came to mind. Between the box holding my hands and the collar that messed with my magic, I didn’t have any options that I could think of.
When I’d been captured, Grace had taken my belt, which held the pouches of spell cards and my gun holster. He probably would have taken my long coat as well, but with my hands already locked up, he wouldn’t be able to remove that without cutting it off. Fortunately, he hadn’t gone that far just yet.
I kept my expression as calm as I could, though it wasn’t easy since I was freaking out inside. I was burning with a mixture of terror and rage, emotions which kept shifting back and forth.
At the moment, I was the only one in the room, though I knew this wouldn’t last long. A couple of guards stood outside, and I could hear talking, enough to let me know that Scorn would arrive soon. The very thought of that man stoked both my rage and fear. Scorn was the man who’d murdered my family and had tried to do the same to me on multiple occasions. He was the man who would probably succeed in making me join them once he finally arrived.
The door finally opened and then one of Scorn’s men stepped inside. I’d seen this man before, after I’d arrived at this location, but this time he looked…wrong. His skin was glossy, almost as though it was made of plastic. A moment later, another version of him stepped through the door, though this one looked a lot younger, as if he was a teenager who was wearing clothes that were far too large for him.
“Oh,” I said in realization of what was happening.
Three more guards stepped into the room, each one a twisted version of the original. One was lopsided, one had an extra arm growing out of his side, and the third was a female version. Only once all five of these people came into the room and took places in various spots around it, did Funhouse follow.
Funhouse looked exactly the same as the last time I’d seen him, like some kind of Tim Burton version of a circus ringmaster. He didn’t say a word as he came to a stop beside the door.
Then another man came in behind Funhouse, another version of all the other guards. No, this one was the original man, and he kept giving his clones odd looks.
“This is pretty freaky, Funhouse,” the man said. “I wish you would have imprinted on someone other than me.”
“I need to imprint on someone in order to create my reflections,” Funhouse commented in an almost bored voice. “And you were convenient.”
I watched Funhouse, adding that bit of information into the other bits I’d overheard since being captured. From what I understood, Funhouse was a manifestor, who effectively had the same power as Penny Dreadful back at Whateley. But where she could create fake zombies, Funhouse created his twisted copies…his ‘reflections’ of other people.
“It’s starting to get kind of crowded in here,” the original goon said. “A regular party.”
“You do have a point,” Robert Grace commented as he stepped into the room as well. He looked around, frowning as he did so. His eyes locked on me. “Is she still secure?”
Three of Funhouse’s reflections step forward and grab hold of me to make sure I didn’t move, as if the ropes holding me weren’t doing that well enough. Then Funhouse himself came over for a closer look, examining the ropes, the collar on my neck, and the box on my hands. Once he was satisfied, he stepped back and nodded to Grace.
“Alright then,” Grace said, looking to Funhouse. “You can wait outside, along with your reflections. We’ll call if we need you in here.”
Funhouse nodded. “Sure.”
With that, Funhouse stepped out of the room and all of his minions followed out right behind him. Once he was gone, the original goon let out a sigh of relief. “Those things are so creepy…”
“Perhaps,” Grace responded. “But they are useful…and expendable.” Then he looked towards the door and called out, “It’s clear.”
A couple seconds later, another person stepped into the room, doing so with a confidence that declared he was in complete control. He wore an expensive looking dark grey suit, and from his white hair, I assumed he was old, though it was hard to be sure since I couldn’t see his face. The newcomer’s face was covered with a featureless gold metal mask.
“Mister Scorn,” Grace greeted the man, though it was obvious that he did so for my benefit.
“Scorn,” I whispered as a cold chill ran down my spine.
Scorn stepped forward and stood about five feet in front of me. He didn’t make any other movements and merely seemed to be staring down at me for several long seconds. I wanted to pee myself, but instead, I braced myself and put on my metaphorical White Lady mask. I tried to keep my expression as calm and controlled as possible, and I hoped that none of my fear showed through as I stared back up at him.
“So,” I commented, pleased that I was able to keep my voice even. “You’re Scorn. You’re shorter than I expected.”
“And you,” he responded, “are Bianca St. Claire, the new White Lady.”
“Thanks to you,” I said, the bitterness and anger slipping into my voice.
“I’ve been curious about you, ever since you emerged,” Scorn commented. “You are very young for the role.”
“What now?” I asked, suspecting that I already knew the answer. “A bullet through my head?”
Scorn didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stood back and watched me for several seconds before responding. “That will come soon enough. For now, I merely wanted to see you with my own eyes. You look a great deal like your predecessor.”
“It comes with the power,” I said with a hint of bitterness.
“Very true,” Scorn mused, almost as though he was talking to himself. “Madeline’s coloration was once quite different as well, before she inherited the mantle.”
I blinked in confusion, wondering what Maddy had to do with this. Then, it suddenly dawned on me that he wasn’t referring to Madelyn Belle, who an influential member of the Family. He was referring to Madeline St. Claire…my grandmother.
“What do you know about her?” I demanded, surprised that Scorn knew my grandmother’s name, or at least, that he felt comfortable using that name. Almost nobody had called her that.
I couldn’t see Scorn’s face through the mask, but his tone almost seemed amused as he replied, “I assure you, I knew quite a bit about your predecessor. After all, I knew her before she inherited the mantle of the White Lady.”
“What?” I blurted out in surprise.
“Oh yes,” Scorn continued. “I knew Madeline quite well. I was but a boy…only a few years older than you when her predecessor was killed. I was with her when she brought the Family to America. I was one of those who survived our decimation in the Great War…”
I stared up at Scorn with my mouth hanging open as I realized exactly what he was saying. “You… You were with the Family.”
“Indeed, I was,” Scorn said with a bitter chuckle. “I became a high ranking Hand…the first and only man to have ever earned that honor. And, for many years, Madeline and I were lovers.”
Each word that Scorn spoke was more and more shocking…and even harder to believe. All I could do was stare at him as I tried to wrap my head around these revelations. Of course, he could have been lying, but I didn’t think he was.
“It is obvious that your grandmother never spoke about me,” Scorn continued. “I am surprised at this, as I would have expected to be spoken of as a cautionary tale of why men should not be allowed to learn magic, or a warning for any other who might cross the White Lady.” By the last bit, his own tone had become cold and bitter.
“What happened?” I asked, trying to make sense of his story and the current circumstances. “If you were a Hand, then why are you trying to destroy the Family now?”
Scorn was silent for a few more seconds, and when he spoke, the anger and bitterness had receded from his voice. His tone was calm and in control when he spoke again, reminding me of how I tried to sound whenever I was trying to project my White Lady persona.
“I was well placed within the Family,” Scorn explained. “I was consort to the queen…” Then he paused for another couple seconds before continuing, “But I wanted more. I grew to despise being in her shadow…so I attempted to seize control of the Family. Needless to say, my coup failed…with disastrous consequences.”
“What did she…?” I started to ask, only to pause and say, “I’m surprised she didn’t kill you.”
“As was I,” Scorn admitted. “Perhaps, Madeline would have been kinder to kill me, but that has never been her way. After my betrayal, Madeline proved the adage that hell that no fury like a woman scorned.”
Scorn began to reach up to touch his mask before he caught himself and pulled his hands away. Then he stood straighter, hands behind his back in an almost casual manner as he stepped back.
“Your predecessor cursed me, then cast me out.” Scorn told me. “I spent many years suffering from that curse before I finally learned how to contain it. But to this day, decades later, I have still found no way to break it.”
“That’s why you came after the Family,” I whispered. “That’s why you sent the Messenger after my grandmother… It’s all personal.”
“Yes, my motives are largely personal,” Scorn admitted. “I will destroy the White Lady and her entire legacy. When I am finished, everything that Madeline valued will be turned to ash and ruin.” Then he paused and adjusted his tie. “But I am a businessman, and claiming the Family’s territory and business will be enormously profitable. One can have more than one motive for their actions.”
“And me?” I asked, already wondering why I was still alive. He’d already sent assassins after me, so why hadn’t he finished the job yet? Had he spared me this long just so that he could monolog at me? “What are you going to do with me?”
“You won’t need to worry about that for much longer,” the original goon commented from the side. He’d kept silent for the exchange until this point. Scorn looked at Grace, who took a step back and nodded in acknowledgement of the silent warning.
“I will kill you, of course,” Scorn answered. “But I do not want to risk another hidden heir appearing afterwards and claiming the mantle. If I am to permanently end the legacy of the White Lady, I need to take additional precautions. Once the ritual is ready, I will end the White Lady for all time.”
With that, Scorn turned and walked out the door. Grace, who’d been silent for the entire exchange, immediately followed his boss out, not even bothering to spare me another look. The only one who remained in the room with me was the original goon who Funhouse had imprinted on.
“Sorry, kid,” the goon told me with an almost sympathetic look. “Nothing personal about this. It’s just business.”
Those words were familiar and immediately sparked a surge of anger. I stared at the goon and pointed out, “The Messenger said the same thing, and look what happened to him.”
The man suddenly looked a little nervous at that, though he quickly covered it up. He suddenly lashed out with his fist and punched me in the cheek, probably to try proving that he wasn’t intimidated by a teenage girl who was all tied up. A few seconds later, he was gone as well.
Chicago Il, Friday evening, Nov 25th 2016
I stared down at the box that my hands were trapped in, silently cursing the box and the situation. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t get out of that box, nor out of the ropes that tied me to the chair.
“It would have been a lot easier if they’d underestimated me,” I muttered bitterly. But unfortunately, my kidnappers had taken me seriously. Too seriously.
It had been a couple hours since I’d met Scorn, and I hadn’t made any progress in escaping since then. I’d tried stretching slipping my hands back, out of their bonds, just like I’d tried wiggling out of the ropes. Nothing.
After that goon had punched me, I’d briefly thought that I’d discovered an opportunity. His punch had split open my lip and I’d been able to spit out a little blood, enough so that I dribbled it down onto the box and tried to draw a rune. All I’d done was make a mess.
I hadn’t been injured very badly, and it had all healed up in just a few minutes. This showed that my regeneration was still working and that the collar hadn’t cut off my magic entirely. My regeneration was based off magic, like a healing spell that was always running in the background. So, my built-in elemental spells were dead, but not everything was.
“Come on,” I told myself with a growing sense of desperation. “You’ve got to get out of here before they come back.” I didn’t have much longer and I knew it.
There was a loud thump from right outside the room, causing me to pause. After a few seconds, I realized that it was just a couple of the guards. They began talking so I let out a faint sigh of relief.
“Not time yet,” I whispered.
“I don’t know why we didn’t just bring her to the Castle,” one of the guards said. I recognized the voice. That was the goon who’d punched me. Earlier, I’d overheard someone calling him Kyle.
I perked up at that since Kyle’s comment made it clear that this wasn’t the Castle. The Castle was Scorn’s headquarters, a large building in the middle of downtown.
“Because the Family knows where the Castle is,” the other man responded. “And that is the first place they’ll look for their White Lady.”
“You know, Mike,” Kyle responded with a chuckle. “I kind of wish I was at the Castle when the Family shows up. I’d love to see the looks on their faces when we tell them that their princess is in another Castle.”
“That would be funny,” Mike admitted with a laugh.
The two of them continued talking, though I stopped paying attention to them and looked around the room, trying to figure out how I could get out of this. However, I knew that even if I saw something in the room that I could use, it wouldn’t do much good if I couldn’t get to it. With that in mind, I struggled against my bindings again, hoping that if I kept at it, I might be able to get the ropes to slip a little.
Then I heard a soft fluttering off to the side which immediately drew my attention. A bird flew through the room, circling around once before it abruptly landed on my lap, right on top of the metal box.
“Lenore,” I gasped, immediately recognizing the white raven. “What are you…?”
I paused as I realized that my grandmother’s familiar had been carrying something in her beak, something which she’d dropped right on top of the metal box. It was a card. Specifically, it was one of my spell cards.
“Where did you get that?” I asked, a smile forming on my lips. I recognized the rune that was drawn on the card. I knew exactly which spell this was, and it just so happened to be the one I needed. “Thank you…”
Lenore let out a soft “Kaw,” before taking to the air again. She flew straight at the office window, but instead of hitting the glass, she went through it as though it wasn’t even there.
I shook my head and muttered, “How the hell does she even do that?” Lenore was my grandmother’s familiar, and with my grandmother gone, I would have expected the raven to lose her power as well. “But not important right now.”
The card was sitting flat on top of the metal box which held my hands. I couldn’t touch it. The ropes kept me from being able to bend over to even touch it with my tongue, which was a problem since I normally touched my cards to activate the spells that were stored on them.
When I’d made this card, I’d drawn the rune with ink that I’d created from my own blood. That meant I had a special connection to this spell. A connection that I hoped to use.
I closed my eyes and tried to feel my connection to the card. It was easier than I expected. I could feel it…
“It looks like the collar can’t stop that either,” I said as I flipped a mental switch.
The rune began to glow even as the card crumbled to ash. A moment later, rust began to spread over the metal box, starting where the card had been and quickly covering the entire thing. Then the entire box crumbled away, rusting until it was little more than red dust.
“Yes,” I exclaimed as I pulled my hands free and wiggled my fingers.
The chair suddenly collapsed beneath me, dropping me to the ground with a painful thud. The screws in the chair had rusted away, just like the box had, which also served to release me from the ropes.
I felt an itching around my neck and reached up to the collar, finding that it had rusted away as well. “I’m free.”
Once I untangled myself from the now loose ropes and got to my feet, I gave a nervous look to the door. I’d been making too much noise and was afraid that they’d heard me. But when the door remained closed, I let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
“Now to get out of here,” I whispered, trying to figure out what resources I had available for the next step. Somehow, I didn’t think that Lenore was going to show up with another card for me. I’d just used up all my luck for the day and couldn’t count on getting lucky again. “Let’s see…”
I still had my coat, which was the biggest asset I had at the moment. My coat…and everything I had stuffed into the pockets. They’d taken my belt, but they’d never thought to search my coat too.
The first thing I discovered was that every bit of metal I had on me had been destroyed by my spell. The small knife that had been hidden away was now gone. However, I still had a few spell cards in one pocket along with a nice collection of writing tools.
“Chalk, crayons, sharpie, and charcoal,” I said as I took inventory.
I had a few other things as well, but nothing that would help me at the moment. Still, the writing tools were all that I really needed for now.
My next step took about five minutes as I carefully drew a couple runes on the door and wall. I would have preferred to use the floor, but that office carpeting wasn’t very good for writing on. But in the end, it didn’t really matter.
“HELP,” I cried out. “PLEASE NO…”
The door opened and Kyle charged into the room, looking more annoyed than anything. “That won’t do you any good,” he started to say before he abruptly realized that the chair was a pile of wreckage and I was standing on the other side of the room. “What the…?”
Kyle had already stepped too far into the room and was close enough to activate the spell I’d placed on the wall. It exploded like a landmine and triggered a nearly identical spell on the door, right as Mike was coming through. Both goons were thrown by the explosions while what was left of the door was left completely open and unguarded.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” I said in a sarcastic tone as I calmly strolled out of the room.
Chicago Il, Friday evening, Nov 25th 2016
Two of Scorn’s men walked down the hallway as they searched all the empty offices for me. They were both wearing cheap suits and carrying weapons that looked like something a devisor would have come up with.
“Great,” I muttered from the empty office I was hiding inside of. I peeked through a crack in the door. “Just what I need. Mobsters with ray guns.”
I backed away from the door as the two men approached, ready to deal with them if they should open the door. However, they walked right past, not even looking at the door much less opening it. Once they had moved on, I let out a sigh of relief.
It looked like the ‘nothing to see here’ spell that I’d put on the door had worked. If Scorn really had been a Hand, then that probably wouldn’t work on him, but his men… Well, it didn’t look like he had many magic practitioners on hand.
When I was sure that they were gone, I slipped out of the office and began moving down the hallway. I paused a couple doors down and quickly drew a new rune onto the wall, a ward that would warn me if anyone got too close. That was part of how I’d been keeping ahead of the people who were searching for me.
I was in an office building with multiple floors, and unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to sneak out just yet. The elevator was shut down, and though I could go down the stairs, I found that I couldn’t go very far. A couple floors down, the stairs had been blocked off by some nasty magic, so I’d turned around and had been playing hide and seek through the building since.
A minute later, I stepped into what had been a cafeteria before the entire building had been emptied. There was no sign of tables and chairs, only a large floor which had been put to a different use.
A circle had been painted in the middle of the cafeteria, about ten feet across, and surrounded with dozens of symbols and complicated runes. In addition, six objects had been placed around the circle as well, each connected to some of the runes in the diagram. Three of the objects were golf ball sized crystals, while the other three were random seeming magical objects. There was a goblet, a figurine, and a dagger.
“The ritual,” I said with a deep scowl. “This is what Scorn was working on…”
I stood back and carefully looked over the ritual, noting that it hadn’t been completed, but it was nearly ready. It looked like my escape had distracted Scorn from finishing it.
The ritual looked complicated and I wasn’t familiar with all of the symbols being used, but what I did recognize or could translate with my power, gave me a good idea of how the ritual was supposed to work. If I died in the middle of that circle while the ritual was active, it would act like a prison, keeping my spirit captured within. That alone would have been bad enough, but it looked like the spell was also meant to tear my spirit apart and destroy it…like a giant magical blender.
“Kind of overkill for something that isn’t even necessary,” I said with a snort.
Scorn had said that he wanted to make sure that there would be no new White Lady after me, that no hidden heirs would be able to take up the mantle. This whole ritual was unnecessary since there were no other heirs. If there had been anyone more qualified, then they would have inherited the mantle instead of me. The spirit had pulled some tricky stuff to even get me.
I gave a weak chuckle. “Nothing says it couldn’t pull something like that again.” I imagined that if I died, then the spirit might try to find some other avatar that it could change to fit the requirements. I seriously doubted that this would work, but then again, I never would have thought that it could change me either.
Now that I’d found the ritual, I needed to decide what I should do with it. I certainly couldn’t leave it like this, so ruining it was an obvious step. The question was, should I wreck the entire thing or just make a few subtle sabotages that could come back and bite Scorn in the butt if he ever tried to activate it?
“Or,” I mused aloud, looking at the three crystals.
Each of the three crystals held a lot of essence. They were essence batteries, hooked up to the ritual in order to power it. From what I could tell, they each had a very nice amount of essence, enough that it would be a shame to waste it.
For a minute, I considered erasing the entire ritual and then drawing out a new one of my own. I could use those crystals to power a pretty strong effect, enough to take down this entire building if I wanted. But then, reality hit and I realized that there were two main reasons this wouldn’t work. First, I didn’t know enough to pull off any kind of large-scale ritual off the top of my head, and second, it would take hours to draw out something like this…hours that I would be here as a sitting duck.
“So, that idea is out,” I muttered in disappointment. I let out a sigh and turned my attention back to the crystals. “But I can still use those.”
I moved around the ritual, snatching up the crystals and then ruining everything I could as quickly as I could. Containers of special paint had been left off to the side, so I splashed these over the writing. That should be enough to make this completely unusable.
That still left the question of what I should do next. Now that I had the essence in these crystals to help, I could pull off a few more spells. I might be able to get around the barrier that Scorn had put on the stairs, or maybe, I might even be able to set up some kind of flare to get the Family’s attention. I had no doubt that they were looking for me.
“Or,” I started with clenched teeth… “Or, I stay and fight…”
That last idea was the most ridiculous one yet. What could I possibly do against Scorn and all of his people? I was seriously outnumbered and outgunned. The smart move would be to do the same thing that I had been…continue running and hiding.
“I’m tired of running and hiding,” I spat out, the anger and bitterness rising to the surface again.
I clenched my fists and thought about Scorn and everything he’d taken from me. I thought about all the people he’d already sent after me, ones that I’d barely managed to escape. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that if I slipped away again, he would just send more people after me…and continue doing so until one of them succeeded.
This was the closest I’d ever been to Scorn, the closest I’d ever been to being able to hit him back. This was an opportunity, one that I might never get again. I had to take it.
“No more running and hiding,” I stated with a grim determination that floated on a layer of terror. “Now, I’m going to make him hurt…”
Of course, I knew that this wouldn’t be so easy. For one thing, I didn’t really know what Scorn was capable of, though his being a Hand gave me some ideas. Still, that wasn’t enough. And for another, I wasn’t really a fighter. I wasn’t the kind of mage who threw fireballs at their opponents. Sure, I could do that a little, but that was more of an exception…the kind of tricks I could pull in an emergency, or if I needed to buy myself an opportunity to get some distance from the threat.
“I have to hurt him and his people,” I thought aloud. “But I can’t just go in blasting…” I scowled at that. “That isn’t how I fight. If I want to hurt them, I have to fight the way that works for me.”
After a little more consideration, I turned and left the cafeteria, filled with a new sense of purpose. I was going to fight back. I was going to hurt Scorn and his people. And I was going to do it by…running and hiding.
Chicago Il, Saturday early morning, Nov 26th 2016
I was on my hands and knees, frantically drawing a rune onto the hard tile floor. Once I finished with the rune, I leaned back onto my knees and stretched my hand, trying to work out the cramp that had formed.
“That should do it,” I said as I glanced down the hallway, which was covered with a dozen spells, each of them having been drawn in chalk that matched the color of the beige tiles so that they were hard to see. “At least for here.”
For the last couple of hours, I’d moved through the building, going from floor to floor and leaving a trail of spells behind. Most of them were completely unnoticed, their locations hidden by ‘nothing to see here’ spells which gently directed people away from those particular areas.
It had been exhausting to draw this many runes and cast this many spells in such a short amount of time. I’d been so rushed about it that my work had been a bit sloppy, though the spells would still work fine, just not as efficiently as they would otherwise. I’d also used chalk, sharpie, and such rather then special made inks, which would reduce the essence efficiency in each spell as well.
Because of the materials and circumstances, each spell had cost about twice as much essence as it normally would. This was a lot of essence, and I would have already used up all my essence, if I’d been relying on my own.
With that, I held out one of the crystals that I’d found at the ritual. It had previously been fully charged with essence, but it was now completely empty. I absently tucked the now empty crystal into my pocket since it might be useful in the future.
“Cheap, fast, or good,” I muttered in annoyance. “Choose two and be glad if you get one.”
A few seconds later, I slowly got back to my feet and stretched. My preparations were finished, so now it was about time to set everything in motion. I grinned in anticipation at finally being able to do something against Scorn.
I wasn’t a fighter, and certainly not a front-line fighter, in spite of all the BMA classes that I’d attended. Instead, I was much better at hiding in the background, making preparations and then drawing my enemies into them.
“I should have taken survival instead of BMA,” I thought aloud, regretting that particular class choice since whatever I learned in survival would have been a lot more relevant to what I usually end up facing. “I’m definitely taking that escape and evasion class they’re offering for winter term.”
Just then, I felt several of my wards go off, warning me of where Scorn’s people were moving. I’d scattered a number of wards around the building, and I’d been using them to track my enemy movements. One of the wards that had just gone off, indicated that someone was coming in my direction.
“It’s time,” I said, deactivating the ‘nothing to see here’ spell that hid this hallway. “Let them come.”
Scorn’s people reached the hallway faster than I expected. Two men turned the corner and stared right at me, before I’d even had a chance to duck out of sight like I’d intended.
“There she is,” one of the men exclaimed.
The second man opened fire with his ray gun, sending a blast of energy in my direction. I dove into one of the side offices, avoiding the shot.
“We’ve got her trapped,” the first man announced with a laugh. “Let’s get her…”
“Yes,” I whispered with an evil grin. “Come and get me.”
Since I was now in the office, I couldn’t see the goons as they ran down the hallway, but I could hear them. I also heard the sudden explosion as they ran into my magical landmine. After that, everything went silent.
I waited a few seconds, then cautiously peaked my head out of the office and looked down the hallway. The sight made me wince and nearly empty my stomach, but it also filled me with relief. Neither of those men would be coming after me again.
“They were trying to kill me,” I reminded myself to ease the guilt that was threatening to form. I shoved that guilt away with a reminder of what their boss had done to my family. “I just got to them first.”
That explosion had been somewhat loud, though I wasn’t worried about it drawing the attention of more people. I had a sound suppressing rune hidden back the way they’d come, which would have blocked any noise from traveling past.
I smirked as I began walking away. “If it can silence a snoring dragon, it can definitely quiet a small explosion.”
Since I’d just proven that my traps worked, it was time to expand them. I released the connection that I had to most of my ‘nothing to see here’ spells and let them collapse. Now, Scorn’s people would be able to enter the trapped areas, and to make sure that they did, some of my ‘look here’ spells, designed to draw attention, became active instead. These would subtly encourage interest and draw my enemies right into my traps.
Now that I’d put everything into play, all I had to do was find a safe place to hide while my traps did their work. For that reason, I’d left a few areas hidden with ‘nothing to see here’ spells, and I made my way towards one of them.
It didn’t take long before I felt alerts from some of my spells, telling me that the traps were being activated. I felt the room shake a little which indicated the ones right above me had probably gone off, but I barely heard a thing. My sound muffling spells didn’t do much for the shaking.
I tried hard not to think about the fact that many of these meant that I’d seriously injured or killed someone. What I was doing was…nasty. Nasty but effective since I could deal with these threats without putting myself in reach.
To distract myself from the guilt, I thought about the magical links themselves. Setting those connections to so many spells without using blood ink was…expensive. Almost as expensive as creating the spells themselves. It was extremely inefficient and ate up an enormous amount of essence, but that was what it took to brute force the effect. If I hadn’t had Scorn’s essence crystals, something of this scale just wouldn’t have been possible.
“Maybe I should thank him for leaving those for me,” I joked weakly.
Then I considered the scale of what I’d set up and just how complicated it all was. In fact, this project, as rushed as it had been, was the most large-scale project that I’d ever worked on. I wondered if Mrs. Grimes would give me extra-credit for this…assuming I was able to make it back to Whateley alive.
“One step at a time,” I reminded myself, trying to remain calm and steady. “One step at a time.”
