The luna blade was supposed to cut through anything. Apparently, anything didn’t include the metal doors I was whacking away at or its shimmering runes. Maybe I should have respected the ‘off limits’ sign. Too late now to worry.
“What’s the plan?”
“To get out of here.” Whack. Whack. Ding. “Damn it.”
“Don’t know if you noticed, but Plan A isn’t working. What’s plan B?”
Planning wasn’t my thing. Squeezing into places I shouldn’t go—like the inner sanctum of a Mechanica compound—was more my style hence my current dilemma. Why wasn’t there a window or an air duct? Didn’t these bizarro mages need air and sunlight?
I spun on my heel and used the sword’s dim glow to survey the workroom. Cogs, metal bits and bobs, shelves of rainbow colored liquids—and what have we here? I threaded between two cluttered tables to a chalked circle.
After rubbing out a rune here and redrawing one there, I sat back on my heels and checked my work. It would do for a short hop.
“Oh no, I’m not—” sputtered my spiky-haired companion, but I had the little one by the scruff of her neck.
The world went white just as an ominous clanging began outside the chamber.
For #200WT Thanks to #Lunagemz for the idea