Chapter 21
“This is probably the dumbest idea you have ever had,” Superkind said. He and Gimmlette were standing outside Warsong Hold, looking up at the dark and brooding fortress. Gimmlette was carefully unwrapping a couple of packages she had received in the mail. She looked up at him.
“Fine,” she said saucily. “I’ll go by myself. I know for a fact these are going to work as long as we keep them in our pockets.”
Superkind sighed. “No, no. I’ve come with you this far. We need to stick together. What are those?”
“These,” Gimmlette said, holding up a dark blue stone, “are the disguises Thrall promised us, the ones to get into that mine in Durotar, only we’re going to use them here.”
She handed Superkind one of the stones. It was warm to the touch. “How does it work?”
Gimmlette pulled a piece of paper out of the wrappings around a stone and read it through. “Thrall sent the activation words nicely spelled out phonetically. There should be one in each box.” She rooted through the wrappings in the other box and found another piece of paper. She handed this to Superkind.
“We hold the stone and recite these words,” she explained. “The stones are enchanted with 5 charges. Once the words have been said, we will be turned into drudge-looking trolls. That would allow us to get past any guards and down into that mine to see what’s going on there.”
“Okay, drudge-looking, I can buy that. But won’t we be out of place here?” Superkind asked. “Drudges from Durotar don’t come over here.”
Gimmlette paused and shoved the packing material back in her backpack. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take,” she said quietly. “Really Super, it’s all we’ve got. I need to know, NEED to know. I simply cannot send anyone else in here to get this information.” She paused. “And I mean it when I say, ‘you don’t have to come with me.’”
“Don’t be silly. You’re not taking Ursa along so I have to go regardless of whether I think this is a brilliant or a dumb idea. Couldn’t you just write Thrall a letter?”
Gimmlette had closed her eyes and was reciting the words. There was a small puff of smoke and a Durotar troll peon appeared before Superkind. “Right. And Thrall is going to answer me truthfully. He’s already lied once. How do I look?”
Superkind nodded, read over the paper in his hand and spoke the words. There was a small puff of smoke and Superkind took on the appearance of a Durotar troll peon. “You look like a troll, Gimm, which is, I guess, what we’re going for here.”
“Now, stick the stone in a pocket and keep it there. If it leaves contact with your body, you’ll change back. Changing back would be bad.”
Superkind stuck the stone inside his armor. His hand brushed across the vial he kept there. He pulled it out. The blood from Hogger was a deep, almost violent red. It pulsed and bubbled inside the vial. He looked at the stopper. Parts of it were eaten away. If they survived this latest bit of madness, he needed to have a new stopper made.
Gimmlette looked at the vial. “It looks angry,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s definitely more active than it was a day or two ago. “That probably means something.”
“Well, as with everything else we’ve encountered, it probably does. What that something is, we have no clue. Let’s head inside.”
Their pole arms had the appearance of walking sticks so they pretended to be pilgrims on a long journey. The guards at the front door looked them over but it was the same look they had given to a couple of vendors passing into the fortress ahead of them.
Warsong Hold was big. The zeppelin from Durotar docked at the top of the main keep, which was a good 5 stories tall. It was black with a big horde flag draped inside the front entry. Vendors, merchants, guards and workers all scurried about on their business.
“This way,” Gimmlette hissed and the two of them headed to the right toward the main building.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Superkind asked, almost afraid of the answer.
“I have an idea,” Gimmlette replied. “We know they have a mining operation inside the walls of the hold. I figure it has to be close to the zeppelin to get supplies out. There!” She stopped and pointed to her left.
Several Alliance captives were coming up a ramp pushing wheel barrows. “Slaves,” she hissed.
“I did not want to see this,” Superkind whispered. “I would have thought Thrall had done away with that kind of thing.”
“Ugh. I didn’t want to see this either, but we have to ignore it and head down into the mine.”
They moved to the left, avoiding guards as much as they could. They slinked down the main road into the mine. At the bottom of the road was a small camp where exhausted workers had collapsed and were tended to, such as that tending was. There was mining equipment here and stacks of black stone. Superkind slipped over to one stack and looked at it.
“Saronite,” he whispered. “Pure saronite. I’ll bet this used to be a mine for the Lich King. The horde drove out his minions and just took it over.”
Gimmlette nodded and motioned for Superkind to follow her. They sneaked around the back of several piles of saronite and over a small rise. There was a drop here.
“We’re going to have to slide down,” she whispered.
“Um…how do we get out?” Superkind asked, grabbing Gimmlette’s arm before she went over the side.
She looked at him. “Hearth, silly.”
“Oh yeah,” he said and watched as Gimmlette put her right hand in her pocket to hang tightly onto her stone and slid 15 feet down the side of this hill. Superkind followed.
The mouth of the mine loomed ahead of them. It was an inky black with faint orange-red circles of light coming from torches. Superkind heard Gimmlette sigh.
“Scared?” he asked and put a hand on her shoulder.
“No, just kind of tired,” she replied. “Here we go again, off to look at something that could kill us. It just gets kind of old, you know?”
Superkind nodded. “Well, let’s go,” he said.
The two of them headed down into the mouth of the mine. They stayed as close as possible to the left side of the mine wall and watched the slaves push their carts of ore up the ramp. The walking here was easy as this part of the mine had been open the longest. There were small alcoves off to the left where excess equipment was stored. The two of them made for the first torch they could see. Guards patrolled the main road into the mine. Occasionally, they would take the butt of their weapon and beat a slave, screaming something in orc at them. One slave, a frail-looking human male, fell to his knees after a beating. Superkind whipped out his crossbow. Gimmlette grabbed Superkind and pulled him to the wall.
“No, no, we can’t,” she whisper anxiously. “It will blow our cover, completely. I know it’s hard, but we can’t help them. The best we can do is stand up to Thrall and say, ‘Why do you allow this?’”
She could hear Superkind growling. She felt helpless, powerless, but unless they wanted the full force of the horde down on them, they had to suffer silently. He lowered his weapon. “This is going to be very, very hard, Gimm,” he whispered.
“I know. I know,” she replied.
They moved farther down into the mine towards a torch. So far, all the torches had been on the right side of the road. Now they faced crossing in front of a torch on the left side of the road. In addition, a tauren guard stood next to the torch.
“And how do you propose to get past this obstacle,” Superkind asked.
Gimmlette looked at him. “The same way I got past troggs growing up in Dun Morogh. Didn’t they teach you this in night elf school?” She looked at the floor. Finding a palm-size rock, she lobbed it over the head of the tauren and onto the road. It bounced down farther into the mine, rolling out of sight. She flattened herself against the wall.
The tauren looked back at them once and then took off running down the road. The two of them ran forward, past the light and discovered a small alcove to the left with more derelict mining equipment. They squeezed into the alcove as the tauren ran past them heading right. Gimmlette peered out of the alcove. The tauren was back at his post. He kept looking up the ramp from which they had come. She motioned for Superkind to follow her.
After a few minutes, the ramp began to flatten out. Miners were working the sides of the mine here. There were more torches stuck in the wall to provide better lighting. Guards had increased but many seemed to be unconcerned with watching the workers. Quite a few were asleep. They picked their way through the mine, avoiding the miners and the guards and came to a fork in the road.
“Which way?” Superkind asked.
There was a rumble coming toward them. “Cart!” Superkind hissed. They parted and each hugged the wall as a cart of ore came from the left branch, passed by them and continued on. The person pushing the cart was a blue-haired gnome. Gimmlette stepped into the road, turned and watched the gnome disappear out of sight. Superkind put his hand on her shoulder and motioned to the left. She turned around and followed him down the left road.
About 15 feet from the branch, the air changed. Prior to this, there had been the feeling of fresh air circulating through the mine. The air here was warm and heavy. It did not feel or smell fresh. There were fewer workers and guards. They entered a large room that was very well lighted. Miners were by the entrance to the room slaving away at chipping saronite off the wall and tossing it into the carts near them. At the other end of the room, a line of torches was stuck in the ground at the entry to another tunnel.
“We probably have to go that way,” Gimmlette said. “The old stone trick isn’t going to work there. Ho, what’s this?”
Superkind turned to look in the direction Gimmlette was facing. The tunnel behind them was dark. His night vision didn’t see anything.
“What’s what?” he asked.
Gimmlette was rooting around in her pack. She pulled out a small bottle in which swirled a pink liquid. She moved the vial from her right hand to her left hand and back again before suddenly lobbing the vial at the wall. Instead of hitting the wall, it hit a person, covering them in pink dye. The rogue came out of stealth. Superkind recognized the woman as Movement, the rogue who had been with Gauss and Whirlwinder in the battle over Garadar.
Gimmlette put her hands on her hips and glared at the rogue. She walked over to her. In her transformed shape, she was the same height as Movement. Standing 3 feet from the rogue, she again put her hands on her hips and glared.
“What’s she doing here?” Superkind whispered. “Did she follow us from The Barrens?”
Movement was obviously uncomfortable at being found out. She backed up and drew her daggers. Gimmlette pointed into the room ahead of them and picked up a stone. She pantomimed tossing the stone at one of the guards and then pointed at Movement. The rogue’s eyes grew wide. She understood. Covered with pink dye as she was, Gimmlette could easily frame her for the stone. She shook her head quickly, “No” back and forth.
Gimmlette contemplated the next move. If Thrall knew the horde had released something in the bottom of this mine, why send Movement to verify this? Did Thrall suspect she and Superkind were going to come here to check it out? Possibly, but he wouldn’t have needed Movement to spy on them. He would have had his best trained combat rogues to watch them. Plus, they wouldn’t have made it down this far. They would have been arrested up top because, as Superkind had pointed out, drudge Durotar trolls don’t belong in Northrend.
Movement’s reaction to the possibility of being found out made Gimmlette feel Movement was doing this because Gauss was curious. Possibly this was a mere coincidence that they would all be here at the same time, although Gimmlette doubted this. It wouldn’t take much thinking on Gauss’ part to realize if she knew something about the mine, she’d be here as soon as she could to check it out. Movement wouldn’t have had that long to wait for them.
Gimmlette reached inside her backpack and pulled out another box. She unwrapped another stone and a piece of paper and offered it to Movement. The rogue looked at her suspiciously. Gimmlette reached into her pocket, pulled out her stone and set it on the ground at her feet. There was a puff of smoke and she reverted to her original form. She picked up the stone, recited the words and polymorphed into the troll. Movement nodded, “Yes” and took the stone. She said the words and turned into a troll peon. There was no sign of the pink dye.
Gimmlette turned towards the large room in front of them. She motioned that the three of them had to cross the room toward the area where the torches were. Movement nodded and pointed at herself. Her daggers had been polymorphed into sticks. She reached into her bag and pulled out a vial. She opened the vial and dripped a sickly green-colored liquid onto the sticks. Then she put a finger to her mouth, went into stealth and began creeping forward.
Gimmlette came back to stand next to Superkind. “What’s she doing here?” he whispered.
“I believe the same thing we are, wanting to see what Garrosh discovered in the bottom of the mine. I don’t think she’s doing this on Thrall’s behalf. He must have made some reference to this after we left them and Gauss is curious.”
“Were we followed? How could she stealth all the way from the Barrens to Stormwind and onto the boat?” Superkind asked. “Certainly we would have seen her.”
“We weren’t looking for her to begin with. We spent boat time looking at our scrolls and discussing the next steps. She could have been on the boat with us and we never would have seen her. I suspect she’s been here waiting for us. Gauss isn’t stupid. He would know I’d come here because I want to know. She waited what, 2 hours for us to go from The Barrens to Stormwind to Valiance Keep to here?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Superkind agreed. “Next question. Why do you carry pink dye in your backpack?”
Gimmlette watched as what she thought was the form of the rogue approached a guard. He flinched and then stood stone still.
“Sapped,” Gimmlette said. “And you know me, I carry around all sorts of stuff. I think I had that for Epi and forgot to mail it to her.”
As the misty form of Movement approached another guard closer to the torches, there came a screech from down the darkened tunnel beyond the torch row. The miners looked up, dropped their picks and started running out of the room. Movement froze for a few seconds to let people get by her and then stealthed back to where Gimmlette and Superkind had pressed themselves against the wall to avoid hitting the miners. She stood opposite them, came out of stealth and shrugged.
The guards turned toward the dark tunnel. They, except for the sapped one, had drawn their swords. Two guards had started to roll into the room a small machine to which were affixed a number of swords on a rotating wheel. They positioned it to face the tunnel. A guard came up to the sapped guard and slapped him across the face. The guard looked stunned for a moment and then drew his sword.
There was another screech and a series of rapid clicks. From up the tunnel came a spider that looked to be a cross between a Nerubian elder and a scourge spider. The orc guards started yelling and the spear throwing machine was set into action. The beast seemed to balk at getting past the torch row. The machine tossed its load of 5 spears at the spider. Three of them stuck in the flanks of the thing while the other two missed. Several of the orc guards turned and ran past the hiding party.
The spider decided the torches could be surmounted and knocked over the two on the end. It squeeze past the rest of the line and scurried into the main room. Two guards charged it. The first guard to arrive was picked up in the beast’s pincher and chopped in two. The second guard who charged managed to slice off the spider’s left front leg. There was a deafening screech and the spider turned on the orc. It reared up and impaled the orc on its right front leg. It waved the body around in the air before hurling it against a far wall. The remaining orc guards dropped their weapons and fled the room.
Left alone with the corpses, the spider spit a green juice onto the bodies that caused them to bloat. Then it began wrapping the corpses in web, carefully, almost tenderly.
“Good god,” Superkind said. “Is that what’s down there?”
“Probably,” Gimmlette said. “And probably other stuff. If we’re in the right branch of the mine, this is where Garrosh opened the wall that kept whatever we’re fighting imprisoned. Who knows what actually down there.”
“How do we get past this?” Superkind asked.
Movement was waving her arms. She pantomimed sneaking up on the spider. Gimmlette thought about this for a minute but then shook her head. She pulled out her bow, which looked like a pea shooter, aimed, and shot a ball of ice at the spider. The trap opened right under the spider and it was suddenly encased in a block of ice. She pointed at the spider and nodded at Movement.
“As soon as she attacks, we have to be ready to shoot it. I don’t want her to die on a stupid spider thing,” Gimmlette said.
They moved into the room. Gimmlette counted the seconds until the trap would end. Movement went behind the spider. There was a click of weapons and the sound of slashing steel. The ice trap broke and the spider let out a screech. Gimmlette and Superkind fired their bows. Arrows zinged through the heavy air. The front of the spider was hit was a barrage of arrows. The beast turned its attention from Movement to Superkind and Gimmlette. They started moving backwards up the tunnel, while stopping to fire their arrows. The beast was having trouble walking due to the missing leg so they could stay at range on it. Gimmlette grabbed a nearby torch and lighted a couple of arrows. She launched these into the side of the spider. Again it screeched and swung around at Movement. The rogue deftly avoided the legs swinging at her while continuing to stab and slice at it. There was another screech and the spider dropped. Then came the smell.
The stench from the spider’s body was overpowering. Gimmlette fell to her knees coughing, her eyes watering with tears. She could hear Movement coughing, a raspy hoarse cough. Superkind leaned against the wall, his eyes watering. On a whim, he seized the torch near him and tossed it onto the spider’s body. There was a flash and the whole body went up in flames, but the stench stopped.
Gimmlette looked up at him. “Wow,” she said.
“I know,” Superkind agreed. “Let’s hope we don’t have to kill very many more of these.
Movement came over to Gimmlette and held out her hand. In it was a curiously shaped stone, not quite oval and not quite circular. It was colored a deep blood red. She pointed at the body and urged Gimmlette to take the stone.
“What is it, Gimm?” Superkind asked.
“I don’t know,” Gimmlette replied. “I think Move got it off the body. I guess I can take this back with us. Maybe Tyrande will know what it is.” She took the stone and put it into one of the empty polymorph stone boxes. Then she pointed at the tunnel from which the spider had come. Movement nodded.
The three of them crossed around the makeshift torch barrier. The air here was definitely of a hot and stale variety. It was quite dark with no little pinpoints of torch light ahead of them. They found the right side of the wall and, with their right hands touching the wall for reference, moved slowly down the tunnel. Superkind went first, his night elf dark vision coming in handy here for picking out the wall and floor. This area had been mined recently as fresh equipment was positioned along the wall. But it was not a finished mining. Gimmlette tripped over a rock and nearly fell but Movement caught her.
What they noticed first was the clicking sound; thousands and thousands of clicks, seeming to come at random intervals. It was coming from in front of them. As they moved closer to the sound, a pale lavender glow became visible. Another 10 feet and they could see the spiders moving across the ground. There were dozens of them, small and dark, scurrying this way and that.
The wall began to move to their right and the blackness began to give way to this pale lavender light. It seemed like the room was opening up. Movement grabbed Gimmlette’s arm and pointed up. The light was just enough to see the ceiling here was festooned with spider bats or bat spiders or something alive. They jostled for a spot on the ceiling, their red eyes staring down. Gimmlette grabbed Superkind’s arm and pointed up. Occasionally, a real bat would fly over these eyes and spray a mist over them.
They skirted around the right wall, staying as close to it as possible. The spider bats were more in the center than at the edge and there was a good 10 feet of ceiling not occupied by bats between the wall and the leading edge of the creatures. There was a small screech and the group came to a dead stop. Superkind lifted up his boot. A small spider scurried away. They could be easily missed as they were nearly the color of the saronite floor. Gimmlette took to scuffling along so her feet would slide under a spider and not step on it.
The heat in this portion of the mine was great. Superkind could feel sweat dripping down his scalp and the back of his neck. The smell here could be characterized as ‘ripe’, which added to the dread and uncomfortable feeling.
Gradually, they worked their way toward the lavender light. It came from a room off the bat room. The air here was fresh and pure and cool. Opposite the entry to the room was a large crack running floor to ceiling. The light was coming from this crack. It was in the form of a thick lavender-colored liquid. Twilight cultists scooped up the liquid and put it in jars which were set on the ground and on tables around the room, bathing the room in a surreal lavender glow. It reminded Gimmlette of the spirit world where you had to fight The Prophet Tharon’ja in Drak’Tharon Keep.
There were three machines the group instantly recognized as transporters placed about this area. Cultists at some tables mixed some sort of crystallized powder into the ooze which changed it from pale opaque lavender to a transparent lavender. A lid was placed on the jar and a cultist would enter a transporter and disappear. Cultists returned with empty jars.
“I wonder where they are going,” Gimmlette said. “and what they are doing with the ooze once they get there.”
“This is what Garrosh found?” Superkind asked. “He found a purple ooze.”
Movement motioned them to the left and pointed to an unused table under which they could hide, watch and not be seen. Once under the table, she looked at Superkind and Gimmlette and shrugged her shoulders.
The trio sat for awhile and watched. Cultists talked one to the other in very quiet tones so it was impossible to understand what was being said. They had the packing of the ooze down and every 4-5 minutes, another cultist would take a jar and leave. Returning cultists would bring back an empty jar.
As they watched, there came a low moan. Cultists gathering ooze backed away from the crack. A tall cultist, previously hidden down near the crack, came to the center of the room.
“Wait for it,” he called out.
The ooze in the crack started to change color. Lavender, purple, red, dark red. Superkind rubbed his chest. It was the same color as the liquid in the vial he carried. The ground began to shake and tendrils of red snaked out of the blood red ooze. Cultists backed away from the tendrils. From the bottom of the crack, there appeared a foot and then a leg. Slowly, a body squeezed itself out of the crack. It was a cross between a wight and a human, more upright than a wight but certainly similar to it and made of ooze. It had piercing black eyes and a gaping mouth out of which dripped a dark red foam. It’s “hair” was the tendrils that flailed about.
Once it completely cleared the crack, the tall cultist yelled, “Now!” and the air was filled with spells aimed at the creature. It screamed and flailed about, trying to strike anything within reach. Superkind pulled the vial out of his chest pouch and looked at it. Inside the vial was a tendril trying to get out. It was poking at the cap of the vial, breaking off small chunks on the inside. Yes, his stopper had to be replaced as soon as possible.
A cultist screamed, “I’ve been hit!” Tendrils wrapped themselves around the arms of the person. Everyone backed away from them, continuing with the spells on the main creature. Writhing in agony, the person was enveloped in dark red and dissolved into the beast.
“Step it up people,” bellowed the tall cultist. “Or we’ll feed you to it next.”
The air glowed with spells. The creature screamed but slowly sank to the floor. When the mass stopped writhing, a cultist grabbed a nearby unlighted torch and lighted it.
“No yet!” the tall cultist called out. “The master has need of this essence. Scoop it up.” Several cultists grabbed shovels and began shoveling the reddish black ooze into jars. They quickly put lids on them and bound the lids with string.
“That’s not going to hold,” Superkind said.
Once as much of the ooze as could be rescued was put into jars, the tall cultist said, “Burn the rest.”
The torch was lighted and the rest of the ooze burned. The tall cultist held up one of the jars of reddish ooze. He looked at the ooze from all angles.
“Have we fulfilled our quota for today?” he asked, to no one in particular.
“Yes sir,” said someone in reply. “We thought we had not and we made another but that one was unstable so we turned it on the orcs.”
“Excellent,” the tall cultist said. “I will take a batch to the master. He has nearly completed the transformation of that brute they call ‘Hogger’. We have another week in this miserable place and then we can leave this to the horde to clean up. Rotation will be in three hours. You know your duties. See to them.”
He held his jar closely as he stepped into a transporter and was gone.
“One week,” Gimmlette said. “We have one week to be ready.”
“Actually, Gimm,” Superkind whispered. “It’s less than that. We have to kill Hogger before they finish whatever they are doing to him.”
“Shit,” Gimmlette responded. “You’re right.”
Movement tapped Gimmlette on the leg. She pointed toward one of the transporters. Then she went stealth and dropped out of stealth and pointed again at the transporter.
“Oh good lord,” Gimmlette said. “Movement wants to go into the transporter to see where it leads.”
Gimmlette shook her head, “No.”
Movement looked at her curiously and shrugged.
“No?” Superkind asked. “Gimm, she could find out who the boss is.”
“And she would be going alone,” Gimmlette said. “We can’t go with her. We can’t stealth. No wait, I can’t stealth. You can, but I can’t. So I let the two of you go and that leaves me alone here. Or Movement goes alone and walks into something totally horrible. I can’t let her do that.”
Gimmlette pulled a piece of chalk from her backpack. On the ground, she drew crude drawings of the options. Movement looked at the drawings and sighed. She shook her head in understanding. She sat for a moment and then poked Gimmlette again. She motioned for the chalk. She drew a transporter and then herself going into the transporter. She drew a symbol on the ground next to it followed by the image of a hearthstone and pointed at Superkind and Gimmlette.
“I don’t get the symbol, Gimm,” Superkind said.
“Neither do I, Super,” Gimmlette replied. Gimmlette pointed at the symbol and shrugged. Movement scrunched up her face thinking. Suddenly, she knew what to do and drew 10 lines on the ground.
“Ah!” Gimmlette said. “Wait 10 minutes and, if she’s not back, get the hell outta here.”
Gimmlette thought about this. They needed to know who was on the other side. They needed to know who was calling the shots, who was feeding Hogger the liquid that was turning him into who knew what. But Movement could be walking into something terribly, horribly awful. As much as they were the opposite faction, they were now, kind of, in this together. Gimmlette motioned for the chalk back.
On the ground she drew an image of Thrall and a mailbox. Then she pointed to herself and circled the mailbox. Movement looked lost in thought. Then she smiled or what seemed to them to be a smile, if an undead can smile, and nodded. Gimmlette smiled and nodded at Movement and pointed toward the transporter.
Movement handed Gimmlette the polymorph stone and became her undead self again. She applied another coating to her weapons, stealthed and started to move toward the transporter. She stopped, turned back to look at Superkind and Gimmlette and came back to them. She hugged each of them and waved, “Goodbye”.
She stealthed over to the transporter and waited. In a few minutes, a cultist with a jar of lavender ooze stepped into the transporter. The bottom glowed. At the last second, Movement slipped onto the pad and was gone.
“Have I sent her to her death?” Gimmlette whispered.
“I hope not,“ Superkind said.
They sat under the table and waited. At least it didn’t smell here, nor were there spiders, guards or miners to be avoided. The cultists went on with their work. Superkind pulled out his vial. The red liquid was quiet now, congealed at the bottom of the vial.
They waited. There was, really, no sense of time down here. It could be 2 minutes. It could be 5. It could be 45, for all they knew. The transporter that Movement left on sprang to life. The cultist who had left returned with an empty jar. She didn’t act like she had seen or heard anything different from normal.
They waited. Finally Superkind said, “I think it’s been long enough, Gimm. I don’t think she can get back here or she would have. Let’s go before we’re spotted.”
Gimmlette sighed. As much as she wanted to know what was on the other side of that transporter, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go without attracting attention. It was best if she and Superkind hearthed back home. If Movement really did understand what she had asked, as soon as she could, she would let Gimmlette know what she had seen. Then again, maybe Gauss would keep that information to himself and they would die horribly without the knowledge Spectacular Death possessed. It was out of her hands now. She needed to mobilize the guild with the knowledge they had less than a week to be ready.
She pulled her hearthstone out of her pocket. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “Let’s go home.”
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