A Delicate Web (gxg) | ONC2020 |

2. freefall

chapter 2. freefall

word count: 1640

Panic explodes in the room, and I find myself smiling inside my helmet. The chaos is the fun part.

There's a series of audible clicks, and about fifteen people in the crowd pull handguns out of hidden pockets in their jackets. That's always nice.

Did I prepare any spells that can deal with this situation?

I don't think so.

But they don't know that.

I give a long, drawn out sigh that stutters robotically through my helmet's speakers.

"You'll want to put those away. Do you think I wouldn't have a crumple metal spell in my vocabulary?"

I let them think about the implications of what that'll do to them, of guns folding in on themselves around vulnerable hands like crushed and dangerously pointed soda cans.

Hopefully none of them are seasoned spellcasters. If they are, they'll know that spell doesn't exist. Not yet. Someone should really get on that.

They hesitate, as though all of them are holding their breaths, looking at each other to make a decision.

I raise a hand in a lightning-quick motion, fingers positioned to snap, and suddenly, rustling fills the room as every firearm is tucked back away in holsters and pockets. I smile, even though none of them can see it.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Now: Neilson. Where is he?"

The question hangs in the room like a storm cloud. Then, finally, someone points towards the front of the room. I begin walking in that direction, people clearing out of my way — or more likely, out of the way of the massive, flickering black spear in my right hand. I'm filling the room with my presence, terrifying them all into silence. It's like I'm a celebrity, really — and yeah, I am the princess, but it's different when they don't know that.

I recognize him as soon as I see him, frozen in a moment of panic near the front, right ahead of the stage. He's a graying man, about middle aged, in a classy black suit.He wears gloves that I've never seen him without, and I recognize them instantly as a sign of his dark magic use.

Dark magic will kill everyone around you if you're not careful, but it'll also come for you, sooner or later. And it starts with a blackening and shrivelling of the fingertips.

"Neilson," I growl. "Hand over the serum and give yourself up."

He reaches into the front of his jacket and I sigh at his stupidity.

"What did I say about the guns —"

His other hand wraps around the arm of someone in the crowd and he yanks them toward himself before I can react. He tugs them hard against his chest, forcing a surprised yelp from their lips. Then his other hand leaves his jacket and he presses his empty fingertips against his captive's skull. I freeze.

He's targeted a girl who can't be much younger than me — seventeen, maybe. She's short, with dark skin and long box braids dyed red at the ends. Her eyes are huge and brown and quivering, surrounded with bright sunset-hued eyeshadow and bold orange eyeliner. A brave look, but it works.

"Now," he chides, wrapping an arm around her throat and lifting her up onto her tiptoes with ease. "If you know so much about the dangers of dark magic, you know I can explode her head from the inside."