You shiver, wondering if it’ll be more skaddlers like back in the alleyway behind your work.
But maybe now isn’t the time to find out if you can take one on alone.
You don’t even know how to reliably make the sword transform.
“This way,” Elena shouts over the wind as another gust picks up, roaring down the street between the houses, sending a half dozen loose shingles flying from the roof across the street.
She lets go of the railing long enough to grab the front door, but as soon as she opens it, it flies back in the wind with abang.
Her grandson grabs it, yanking it shut as soon as the three of you pile inside.
“I still think we should stay and fight,” he grumbles, but follows along behind you as Elena leads you toward a door leading down into the basement.
She reaches for the light switch, but the power snaps out not a second after she turns it on.
“Damn it all,” she mutters under her breath. “Damn wind must have knocked it out again.”
You shiver.
You know you should be angry about being kidnapped, maybe even a little scared of your captors, but so far Granny Elena and her grandson, Eli, don’t seem so scary.
They hardly seem cult-y at all.
And though you have a lot of questions you’d like answers to, right now you’re starting to get more worried about the storm.
And the dark basement stairs you’re currently climbing down.
You grip the wooden railing, holding on with each creaking, blind step.
Just as you’re thinking how nice it would be if you could actually see what kind of cult dungeon you might be descending into, a pale white light glows in front of you.
Was that an answer to your wish?
No.
It’s Elena’s hand.
She’s holding a white light in her hand. A glowing orb that she turns, holding out so you can see where you’re going as you reach the bottom step.
And it takes you a second of blinking to realize that it’s not a flashlight or anything like that.
No.
“Is that…magic?” you ask, unable to hide the awe in your voice.
Elena laughs.
“Of course it is, sweetheart. After all, I am the town sorceress.”
“How did you do that?” you ask, holding your own hands in front of you as you reach the bottom.
Elena laughs again. “It’s not so hard, dearie. I’ll show you.”
While she’s demonstrating how to make a magical orb with your hands, Eli grumbles from somewhere across the dark room.
It sounds like he’s picking stuff up and putting it down, but you can’t see exactly what.
Finally, he must have found what he’s looking for, because a bright beam of light flashes across the room—much brighter than Elena’s orb.
