(no subject)
“Well,” Aly said to herself thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair as Dove walked out to her assembly. “Looks like I’ve extended my little vacation indefinitely. It’s probably for the best.” She looked down at her desk, covered in reports and coded documents. “I wouldn’t wish this mess on anyone.” The thing about being an accessory to a great god’s master plan that no one ever talked about was the paperwork that came after. She was definitely going to have to hire even more assistants.
“Trick,” she muttered to the darking around her neck.
“What?” it squeaked, raising the largest bead of the necklace shape it had taken so that it was right by her ear.
Aly smiled, “Trick, would you be a dear and show me what’s happening in Market Town? Starting with Master Edgecliffe’s bookshop?” Before the location was named, Trick became a thin black ribbon, slithering down her arm and onto her desk. Aly scooped her papers all into one neat stack so that Trick could spread itself flat, showing her on its surface what the other darkings saw. But, instead of Market Town, Trick’s surface held a strange beach. Aly chewed her thumbnail, perplexed, had one of the darkings acted on its own and stowed away to one of the outlying islands?
Somewhere in the space between closing her eyes to blink and opening them again, Aly found her chair toppling out from under her as she landed in the soft sand Trick had been showing her. Aly raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth at the stretch of beach that was most certainly nowhere in Rajmuat or the palace.
“Kyprioth,” Aly called sweetly. “Kyprioth my dearest, wherever have you brought me this time? I have a great deal of paperwork to do, you know.” When the god, vain thing he was, didn’t appear Aly raised an eyebrow. “Kyprioth,” she repeated, “my heart breaks without the sound of your voice!”
The only answer she got was the sound of the ocean. Aly frowned, nibbling at her thumbnail again as she pondered what this could mean. Kyprioth had grabbed her more than once, taking her in her sleep from island to island or even the Immortal Realms, but he’d never done it silently. He shouldn’t need to unless there was some threat brewing or very important piece of information that her spy network would have already found out.
Well, if something was going on, Aly decided, there was no use just sitting down and waiting. She stood and brushed the sand from the back of her sarong and checked her wrist and ankle sheaths, pleased that all her knives were there, among the various others hidden on her person. The lockpicks, after a quick check, were still in her sash. Aly nodded resolutely to herself. At least she was prepared.
((And there's Aly's debut, timed to mid afternoon. See this slated post for additional information. OH! And I forgot to say, go ahead and explain the situation more than once if you like. She'll get it the first time but will be playing dumb))
“Trick,” she muttered to the darking around her neck.
“What?” it squeaked, raising the largest bead of the necklace shape it had taken so that it was right by her ear.
Aly smiled, “Trick, would you be a dear and show me what’s happening in Market Town? Starting with Master Edgecliffe’s bookshop?” Before the location was named, Trick became a thin black ribbon, slithering down her arm and onto her desk. Aly scooped her papers all into one neat stack so that Trick could spread itself flat, showing her on its surface what the other darkings saw. But, instead of Market Town, Trick’s surface held a strange beach. Aly chewed her thumbnail, perplexed, had one of the darkings acted on its own and stowed away to one of the outlying islands?
Somewhere in the space between closing her eyes to blink and opening them again, Aly found her chair toppling out from under her as she landed in the soft sand Trick had been showing her. Aly raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth at the stretch of beach that was most certainly nowhere in Rajmuat or the palace.
“Kyprioth,” Aly called sweetly. “Kyprioth my dearest, wherever have you brought me this time? I have a great deal of paperwork to do, you know.” When the god, vain thing he was, didn’t appear Aly raised an eyebrow. “Kyprioth,” she repeated, “my heart breaks without the sound of your voice!”
The only answer she got was the sound of the ocean. Aly frowned, nibbling at her thumbnail again as she pondered what this could mean. Kyprioth had grabbed her more than once, taking her in her sleep from island to island or even the Immortal Realms, but he’d never done it silently. He shouldn’t need to unless there was some threat brewing or very important piece of information that her spy network would have already found out.
Well, if something was going on, Aly decided, there was no use just sitting down and waiting. She stood and brushed the sand from the back of her sarong and checked her wrist and ankle sheaths, pleased that all her knives were there, among the various others hidden on her person. The lockpicks, after a quick check, were still in her sash. Aly nodded resolutely to herself. At least she was prepared.
((And there's Aly's debut, timed to mid afternoon. See this slated post for additional information. OH! And I forgot to say, go ahead and explain the situation more than once if you like. She'll get it the first time but will be playing dumb))