I looked between the scrap of paper, the only thing handy when I’d answered the call, and the townhouse. This was the place, but something was off. I glanced up the rows of houses to my right and left. Same architecture. Same design. But no basement doors on any other, and no basement windows anywhere.

“I thought the point of the expedition was to get rich.” The grumbled accusation was followed by a high pitched “Erp!” Ciyla glanced back to see Hune struggling with the remains of a web. Her latest assistant twisted as if battling an invisible ghost, nose curled in a snarl of distaste.

The iron lay heavy about her wrists as she shifted her hands on the table they’d shackled her to. How long ago had that been? Hours? A day? She’d hummed softly to himself passing the meaningless time.

“I’m immortal!” The outcry rankled Ryany’s nerves. Drawing her eyes together she glanced at the annoying creature. Hopping along the spectral branches leaves trails red-gray fire in its wake.

Light flashed. She shifted, half of her trying to rise while pulled backward. Life and death lay each direction and she could agree of which.

“I knew it.” A hand touched her head, running over… No. That was wrong. No, right. She shuddered torn further by the touch, both seeking and loathing the ridged cord of her…

Miressi wanted to ride the winds far from the council chamber. To feel the rushing air whispering anything was possible, instead of stale air of the chamber’s denial of anything beyond tradition.