Cinder

Cinder smells the fire, hears the fight, but she’s already on her way down the hill.  Winds are coming in from the east, and bringing with them information.  They need to be moving three hours ago.

She can feel it, a reverberation, something stirring in the fire in her belly.  It’s not the thieves, mercenaries, soldiers, fanatics ringing them like a noose.  Something worse is coming.  She can feel its claws extending.

Cass is running back towards the inn when Cinder catches up.  “We’re leaving,” Cinder roars, birds exploding from the treetops.

“Someone,” pants Cass.  “Grabbed.  Statue.”

“Great.  Humans suck.“

Ropelings

Climbing the ropes while carrying a full pack, a lantern, and a sabre is a difficult skill to acquire, which is why everyone starts training when they’re still a Ropeling.

“Does everyone have a partner?” says Miss Juniper.  “Put your hand up if you don’t have a partner.”

Verity sighs.

“Ok, Verity and Equilibrium, you can be partners today.”

She makes her stumbling way up the cargo net.  Her classmates whisper and point.  “Hey,” she says, once she’s even with Equilibrium.

Halfway through the lessen, Verity slips and Equil’s hand is there to catch her.  From there, they are inseparable.

Caught Up.

There we go.

There are a couple of stories posted for Friday and Monday.  Scroll down and check ‘em out, if you missed them.

Cass

There is, of course, a bar fight.

Cass gets a meal and some intel from Warty the Barkeep before the mercenaries walk in.  Some words are exchanged.  Someone figures out she’s an adventurer.  Shit gets real.  She wishes, just once, that shit would not get real.

It’s no big thing.  She’s proficient with a barstool, and she can throw a pint glass like a fireball.  The Tooth gets set on fire anyway, though.  This is just how these things go.  She figures she’ll camp out with Cinder again.

She’s halfway up the hill when she realizes the statue is gone.

Jack

There’s a conference held during Math, and at lunch recess, under the cover of a fight between Remus and Billy, Jack and his hand-picked recon team sneak across the soaking field to the fortress’s front gate.  They’re inside before Miss Simpson pries Billy off.

The place is incredible.  High ceilings, massive snow pillars, four or five rooms.  “Fan out,” says Jack.  He runs a hand along a wall; it might as well be brick.

“Got something,” says Megan.

They crowd around.  In the corner of the back room is a hole in the floor.  A staircase curls down into darkness.

Cass

Their halfway-point is Shallowbrook, a “quaint farming community with a lovely B&B,” says Cass’s tourbook.  The B&B turns out to be a tavern called The Rotted Tooth.  The community consists of four shacks.

Figures.

Cinder finds a spot in the hills, and promises not to sneak away with livestock.  Cass dresses down – nobody wants an adventurer staying in their inn – and makes her way down, the statue in a sling under her arm.

The Tooth has eight hairy customers, and a wart-covered keeper.  Everything smells of feet.

This, thinks Cass, is the worst part of the whole gig.

Jack

The only advantage of it not being a snow day is that there’ll be plenty of ammunition for the snowball wars. Lines are being drawn in whispers through English all morning.  The sides have already been determined.  Jack is named general.

But when they get out, the fields are practically green again.  Every flake has been pounded into the massive thing in the centre, a snow fortress to rule all snow fortresses.  No one has seen anything like it, and no one is taking credit.

The teachers forbid them to go near it, but Jack and his side aren’t listening.

Start Spreadin’ the News

Hey all, which is to say, my three loyal readers.

Two Minutes is officially on a brief hiatus – I’ll be in New York this weekend, auditioning for schools.  I’ll fill in the missing days (which’ll be today and probably Monday) sometime next week.  Everything should be back on track by Tuesday.

Also, I know there’s been a lot of Cass lately (who I still have to tag properly, actually…).  I figured I’d run with a storyline, see if I can’t bring it to something resembling a conclusion.  Knowing me, that could be ages from now, but I’ll stick to it for another couple of weeks, probably.  If you love Cass, then you’re welcome.  If you hate her, bear with me and I promise we’ll get back to giant robots or something soon.

Gentleman Jo

Gentleman Jo follows downwind, farther than he’d like, trying to keep out of the dragon’s eyeline. They probably know he’s there anyway.

Even ringed in the spyglass, she’s just as pretty as she ever was.

He wishes he could tell her something that she’d believe. Cass was never good at feeling the pulse of the underground – too busy being an honest-to-god adventurer, she was – but Jo’s heard the whispers. There are more people gunning for that hell blasted statue than even the dragon can deal with.

He needs to get it as far away from her as possible.

Hammerdown

BEGIN HAMMERDOWN PROTOCOL, it says, followed by a series of numbers and letters.

Julian checks the authentication in the mammoth reference they keep in the safe.  The techs all watch him, silent, the lights in the ceiling wheeling in slow, glaring circles.

Finally, he rises.  “It’s real,” he whispers, but it carries through the whole auditorium.

“Jesus Christ,” someone says.

There’s a bit of scramble as they sort out who has which key.  A few people step out to call their families.  Nobody cries; Jensen starts telling jokes.

Julian lifts the cover of the red button, and his vision blurs.