Blood-Born

Chapter I - Part 4

The Farm

Clementine Blue was worn out and tired beyond words.

Her suite, as LaRouchette continued to pointedly refer to it, consisted of several rooms with both private bathing quarters and a small sauna.

It had also served well for a retreat when the rest of the world had become far too much to handle or she found herself in need of solitude to think through and regroup her thoughts.

Between having finally made contact along with her rather embarrassing discovery of the well developed nakedness of Adam who had appeared in human form; something that undoubtedly would have set her sister Daniela atwitter had she been there to witness it – to Nicholas, the flaxen haired dark magic user that had come from California with a friend of LaRouchette to ask for their assistance.

Unfortunately when a warlock high lord asked something of you, it was never really the request that it may have otherwise appeared to be on the surface, but rather the expectation that you would do as they pleased and to say that he had been annoyed by their collective decision to thwart his plans would have put things mildly.

And that type of behavior in her world often invited storm clouds of masked fury rather than calm understanding, of that she was more than sure.

That he had not even bothered to have considered her opinion of any real importance amongst the rest was not as rude on his part as the others may have thought for it was just the way that it was with their respective peoples where gender of birth often made for a razor thin line of separation for those who could and those who were assumed that could not.

Yet even with all that to deal with, politics paled in comparison with how little progress that she had made in getting through to Running-Deer.

It was high time that she finally spoke directly with Poe, rather than relying on the damned journals for communication.

Since physical travel back to Goblin's Toe was clearly out of the question as she simply was not up to it nor could she afford the time that would be involved; her only other option would be the use a spell that she thought she would never have real use for when she had first learned it.

Corporal Teleport...

With a resigned sigh, she reached to open her supply kit from which she set out the candles and retrieved the herbs. When she returned she vowed to take a long hot bath and contemplate her next moves.

She might even light those river rocks piled neat and clean in the sauna.

The one thing that might have made a mess of things would be if Poe were to have stopped wearing his badge as he had been otherwise prone to on most all occasion.

It was just something most lawmen did more out of habit than obligated necessity.

Spelling it had initially been a muse of sorts, perhaps an option to find a convenient way back if the need had risen; or of finding him if he were to have become lost and needed her help in some way or another.

Only one way to find out, she realized.

Hidden deep beneath the ash of the town forge in Goblin's Toe were thickly etched runes marked with her blood and spelled for their protection while thick matching runes burned solid into the floor of her suite – matched equally as if book-ends upon a shelf.

If proven successful, she would be allowed to walk as a proverbial book between them; fail and she would face eternity wondering in fruitless search.