Gracie Abrams is eking out a solitary existence, fighting day-in, day-out against the drain of working customer service and nursing two newborn kittens in her off time. Out on her own ever since her sister moved in with her boyfriend, the burden of...
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Sam worked her way through the rest of the trap spells in the corridor. The minutes ticked on, strain on the teenager's face shadowing droplets of sweaty moisture, and still, nobody came.
The next corridor was made up of more trap spells. An overzealous amount. How did witches come into work with all this stuff lying here? Wouldn't it take hours each day to undo them? Not to mention, however long it took to put them back up at the end of the work day?
Somehow, Patty had to have known we were coming.
I knew the High Priestess had a vast information network, but I had to consider whether Kakashi had told her. He wouldn't go out of his way to warn the witches, not even to go home. That much, I was certain of.
What scared me was the possibility of him not having a choice.
I was an outsider. Even though I'd gotten to know the shinobi, I was still an outsider when it came to Anbu protocols. Missions. Training.
What was Kakashi trained to do if he got separated from his teammates and needed to get home on his own? I'm sure not even the Anbu black ops would have a set protocol for when you got trapped in a different world.
We were running out of time.
Instead of spidery orange webs criss-crossing the area, this expanse of floor was covered in hula hoops. Each one had a candle glowing inside of it.
When Sam and Talia saw what lay in store for us, I could feel their energies deflate. Some curse words were carefully stifled. Faster than before, Sam knelt next to the first hoop with a loud sigh, one of her braceleted wrists hardened into a fist against the ground. She was already exhausted.
Talia fell next to her and immediately began coaching the young Select.
Soon, Sam proffered a finger, not quite touching the plastic hoop. Just like before, unintelligible words began to leak from her mouth like the creaking of tree branches in the wind. A mousy sound. One that skittered through the ears, scratching, teasing, making you turn your head to better try to understand it. Then, just as before, she unearthed a charm on one of her bracelets. I couldn't tell if it was the same one or something different, but instead of brown thread, a silvery-blue fog emanated from the charm.
The substance floated through the air, cloaking the candle's flame. The battle between the silver and orange flames reigned for several heart-pounding moments, before the orange finally guttered out with a sizzling hiss.
Sam gave a dramatic slap of her hand onto the floor, a right hand slamming down right next to where the candle had puttered out. She gave a harsh, one-syllable command with letters I'd never heard before and a pronunciation I couldn't begin to comprehend.
Then, amazingly, the hula hoop broke into three pieces.
Sam grimaced, but Talia patted the Select on the arm. "That's alright. It's good enough."
