Terror Thirty - Letter

I settle down on the edge of one of the two beds in the guest bedroom. The mattress isn’t super soft, and the cloth covering the bed is on the scratchier side of things. Still, it’s better than nothing. I can’t exactly complain.

Felix slumps onto her bed with a happy sigh, arms and legs splayed out every which way. “Comfy,” she says.

I guess it is better than sleeping on the ground again. “Yeah,” I agree.

I remove my cloak at long last, and then get rid of my outfit until I’m only in my slip. The little friends I have left all scurry away to find a place to hide in case I need them.

Then I toss up the blankets and slump down myself.

I’m more than ready to sleep.

It’s been one of those long days, the sort that goes on and on and feels like it’ll never end. But here we are, late into the evening, and in a more-or-less safe place.

Miss Gertrude scares me. She’s strong, really strong, despite her age. And I can’t help but feel she’s seen right through all of my disguises. It’s probably only because Semper and Mom are sorta-friends that I’m still alive.

There’s been a lot of that, lately. Things that can kill me but don’t.

Gosh, I really do need to get stronger.

If I can manage it, I’ll head out of the city and find a tar pit nearby. I need more friends. They’re a great trump card. That won’t be enough though. I need to be stronger myself. Maybe a second class? I haven’t unlocked anything really great though.

“Are you okay?” Felix asks.

“Huh? I’m fine,” I say.

“Oh, okay. It’s just that the wind from your direction felt weird.”

I blink, then realize that I’m exuding a lot of Disgust around me. Probably not the best thing to do in this house. Then again, Semper is a goddess of contempt. That’s basically just disgust mixed with anger.

“Sorry,” I say.

“I thought you farted or something.”

I sit up. “I did not,” I say.

“Sure.”

“It was disgust.”

“Yeah, farts usually are.”

I swear, if I had more than one pillow, one of them would be smacking Felix right about now.

I’m about to protest some more when I hear a clicking. As of something tapping, tapping on the bedroom window.

Shifting, I look out the window and notice a black silhouette perched on the edge of the window. A bird? It looks too dark to be one of the pigeons I’ve been seeing all over the city.

The creature turns, and I see a red glint from its eyes. A monster? I toss my blankets off and jump out of bed to rush to the window and fiddle with the locks. It’s definitely a monster. And a familiar one, at that. “Hey, mister raven,” I say as I finally figure out the clasp on the window and shove it open.

The monster bird squawks and hops into the room on one leg. His other leg is busy, holding a rolled up piece of parchment. For a moment I’m worried. Is that my own letter? But no, the paper’s different, and there’s a seal on it that’s oozing with powerful void and dark magic.

The bird flaps over to my bed, and lets go of the letter before flying a quick circle around the room. He’s at least nice enough not to squawk and croak as he flies around and finds a perch on a bookshelf.

“What’s that?” Felix asks. “Oh, is that the same one?”

“I think so,” I say. I leave the window partially open. The cooler air is actually nice, even if it stinks. It’s not like I can escape from the stench while in the city. I flop down on the edge of the bed, and the bird swoops down and rams me in the chest, immediately demanding pets. “No, mister bird, I don’t have time,” I say with a laugh as I scratch the bird.

“Can I pet it?” Felix asks. She’s sitting up too, now.

The bird-monster croaks and flaps over to Felix’s lap while I reach over and pick up the rolled letter the bird dropped on my bed. The seal on the front is unmistakably Mom’s, all intricate and old-looking, with so much magic oozing off of it that I’m pretty sure even someone entirely untrained would be able to feel it.

There’s a spell to keep water off, another to prevent tampering, and definitely one that makes the paper tougher. The other dozen or so spells are beyond me. I might be able to figure out some of the simpler ones if I was at the library back home, but that’s a big maybe.

I press a thumb to the seal and wince as it tugs on my core. It’s an icky feeling, like when I’m about to retch but it’s not coming out yet.

Then the seal pops off and disintegrates, all the spells coming undone like a knot that was snipped in half. Nice touch, that.

I unfurl the letter and immediately my eyes are drawn to a sentence right in the middle.

You are, of course, grounded.

I close my eyes for a moment. It’s going to be one of those kinds of letters. That’s never a good thing.

“What is it?” Felix asks. She’s still petting the bird, who’s just enjoying all the attention.

“It’s a letter from my mom,” I say. I scoot over to the edge of my bed and reach for the nightstand where an unlit lamp is sitting. Mom is always on about me ruining my eyesight even more if I don’t read with proper lighting, so I set the letter aside and turn on the lamp with a match from a small box.

Then I settle down, and by the light of the lamp, I start reading.

Dear Valeria,

I lower the letter. I’m in so much trouble.

But there’s nothing for it. I take a deep breath and dive into it again.

Dear Valeria,

I’m quite grateful that you found the time to write to me, what with your adventures. It’s surprising that you have any time at all whilst running for your life, investigating things that are beyond you, and avoiding death or worse by what I can only assume is the thinnest margin.

You are, of course, grounded.

I have attached a token to this letter. Breaking it will summon Livonas, who will be happy to bring you back home. She’s hovering high above the region you are within already. You merely need to find a nice, open place, break the seal, then let Livonas do the rest.

It is very simple. Nearly foolproof. Quite similar in difficulty to the small chore I sent you out to accomplish, in fact.

If that bird you sent with your last letter is unable to reach you, it will break the seal itself. If you’re imprisoned, that should help, though if that were the case, I doubt you’d be reading this. Also, your grounding time would then be doubled.

If you are not home within a week, I will come and retrieve you. Personally.

Your very worried goddess,

Luciana

I wince. I wince hard. I’m in so much trouble. Mom is never sarcastic, not unless she’s particularly peeved.

The seal she mentioned is a little tablet on the bottom of the page. I carefully rip the paper around it and place it on the nightstand. There’s some weird magic coming from that, but I don’t want to tempt fate by poking at it.

“What’s happening?” Felix asks.

“Uh, I might be grounded, a lot?”

“What’s that mean?” she asks.

I consider the question. “It means that my mom’s not in a very good mood because of, uh, my not following the plan, I guess.”

“So, we’re not going ahead with the plan to steal the books?” Felix asks.

I flop back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. I’m not sure what I’m feeling, but it’s not nice. It’s like I failed... a lot.

“Yes,” I say.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, we’re going to steal those books back.” I roll the letter back up and tuck it under my pillow. “Or at least, we’ll do our best. Heck, I think I have something of a new plan... one that might be even better than my last plan.”

“Didn’t you have a plan already?”

“Nevermind that,” I say. “Yeah, I’ve got some great ideas. But we’ll need a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be one heck of an exciting day!”

***