I was assured many times by the new arrivals that claimed themselves to be one of the three teams we were in search of. They had been ambushed and attacked. After some struggle, they managed to run away. I had no doubt in their ability, and yet, I doubted one could simply turn their backs on beasts. Were they not mauled? How did they keep their distance?
‘We lured them,’ explained one of the four archers. He lighted a cigarette, offering me one. I declined. ‘We heard clashes nearby and ran towards it. You were the ones we found.’
‘It was fortunate to find you with what seemed to be a torrent of wind,’ said another, receiving the cigarette and lighting it. Mr Mason too took part in the social event that was not very appropriate, considering our circumstances.
I looked at the massive hazard. My indelible disaster had come of use, still casting its shades on the horizon. It had turned to the skies, stretching it, spreading its gusts like the arms of a giant. ‘It seems to have swallowed them all,’ said the man who had come down from a tall pine tree. ‘Thirty-four in total.’ He had a hood on his head, shadowing his face, but I could tell he was not blessed in the sense of beauty. ‘It is moving towards the northeast.’ His voice was hoarse. It sounded as if he had swallowed razor blades.
‘Towards the sea?’ I asked. The forest opened towards the northeast — towards the coast and the sea. ‘It might pick pace or might dissipate. It is up to the winds. The sea is always turbulent.’ But it should dissipate. Oak’s Grove wasn’t the most suitable place for that spell, that is all.
‘Whatever the case, it won’t affect us, fortunately,’ Mr Mason said. Fortunately, that word stuck out to me. Indeed, it was fortune that saved us. Had I been more capable, cautious, and perhaps a little more talented in the handling of wind, this may never have happened. I shouldn’t belittle nature so. I had to be careful. I had to be the best example. I have to be 'The Perfect Mage.'
‘What now?’ asked Ms Perk, tying the lace of her shoes. It reminded me of my own shoes. I checked them and then tightened the lace of my gloves. It stung a little. ‘Where to?’ We had yet to find the other two teams. The group had gotten larger, but anxiety stayed the same. ‘Do you suppose they will be affected by the torrent?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said the archer, puffing smoke. The woman among them was smoking a beautiful pipe. The smell of tobacco bothered me. I did not openly mind smokers; they were very common in big cities, I was told. What played on my nerves was where they smoked. In a forest. Perhaps, I ought to be less judgemental. The night was unyielding and the terror threatened us all, but somewhere within my mind, I did not appreciate the smoke that played around the lovely conifer trees. But who am I to take offence? I had disrupted the very forest with a hazard. ‘They should keep their distance unless they are in battle.’
It was quarter past two. The light of the red moon was brighter at the hour, and the once-silent forest was filled with the loud noise of a ruthless whirlwind. At this hour, the whole of Celbrun must be awake, watching my work. In their beddings and their gowns, in the heat of candlelight and the light of the scarlet moon, many would see the whirlwind riding the gales towards the sea.
And all must have their say. Should the steam engine be not lauded? Should its creator not be named? Then, what punishment do I await? What is my fate? But the inevitable consequence was what concerned me the most. Men would wonder about the capability of mages and the danger we possess if they hear of it. And I knew they would hear of it. Should there be an investigation, how shall I answer? I had much to think about, but for now, I focused on the task at hand.
Our steps continued. We stopped our northward advance in light of the disaster of my making and continued eastward. The Oak’s Grove was behind us, and a woodland of Pines spread. I noticed the little hills lush with conifers, eerily watching us as we treaded beneath them.
As we walked, my mind went back to the smoke from before. Tobacco. The poor chew it; the rich smoke. And, in the name of social gathering and recreation, they fill the pockets of the companies that do not care for any man's health. I had seen it before — the carelessness and avarice of humanity. Be it in mining or farming, the companies made for the sake of benefit care only for the benefit. Human lives and morality had been abandoned in their dissolute and debauched pursuit. And like the smoke of cigarettes and the steam of engines, lives too fade away, lost in a luxury that has become rudimentary — a need.
In my musings, I had failed to acknowledge Ms Nancy’s gaze. And when she spoke, I was caught off-guard. ‘Professor, I have been meaning to ask you something.’
‘Hmm, yes?’
‘You are not Olish, are you?’ she said without a tone. She had a pensive look in her eyes. ‘I suppose, you do not stand out as an outsider right away,’ she murmured. Her brown eyes turned towards me, and she continued with much more confidence, ‘You appear quite young. Is it magic? Do you make yourself look young?’
I denied her allegations. ‘No,’ I said, holding back laughter. ‘This is my face. I was born with it; I have lived with it.’
She made nasal sounds for a while. I had not thought of it as a puzzle she must uncover, but the woman was not willing to let go yet. A fearless pursuit was admirable, but when the hunted is your colleague, must one continue the pursuit? I believed not, but the woman did not care. ‘You seem different. You have black eyes and black hair and that envious straight, little nose. You are too pretty. Are you from the north or another continent? Are you even a man?’
The last part hurt me. I had heard that all of my life, and I was not pleased anytime it was mentioned or brought up. I noticed the gazes of dissatisfaction towards Ms Nancy, but hidden behind a thin veil were looks of curiosity. I denied once again. ‘No,’ I said awkwardly. ‘I have been like this always — from birth.’
‘Do you not want to share the reason with me?’ asked Ms Nancy teasingly, missing all the social cues.
Yes, I thought. But, ‘No,’ I said. ‘I truly do not have an answer that may satisfy you, Ms Nancy.’
‘A gift from the gods then,’ the woman said with a heavy, half-sullen, half-interested voice. It was an attitude I was not accustomed to.
‘We are here,’ said the woman leading us. ‘This is where we last parted with them.’ I looked at the time. It was quarter to three. The time that was always so quick, today felt brutally slow. It was as if the horrifying night was keeping us from the hopeful sunlight. It would all end then. Three hours at the least. I must be patient for three hours.
‘Why did you part so late?’ asked Mr Harris. His wide eyes, interrogating the woman, felt exceedingly intimidating.
‘Well,’ said the woman, seemingly undaunted. ‘Clara felt something was wrong.’
‘And you believed that was enough justification?’ Mr Harris asked. He looked suspicious of the four. I did not share that sentiment, but a man such as him must be thorough.
‘We did not believe her at first, but’ — her voice deepened — ‘when we entertained her a little and went just a little further, we found bullets.’ I felt a sense of foreboding. ‘And none of them were fired. They were intact, with casings.’
‘And you did not inform us, Amy?’ Ms Olsberg asked, her gaze sweeping the surroundings.
‘We meant to,’ Amy, the leader of the newly-arrived group, spoke, ‘but Clara thought we should investigate. She thought Rupert might be in danger.’
‘Rupert?’ I quietly asked Ms Nancy.
She looked at me, invested in the story. ‘One of the scouts. He was sent eastward.’ I gave a nod. That was truly horrifying. So far, I was under the impression that our colleagues were in danger. But now, I felt a newfound fear. The teams may be in trouble, but the scouts must have been through worst. They were alone throughout the ordeal.
Mr Mason asked, puffing another cigarette, ‘So, he lost them? Perhaps he was running away?’
‘From something,’ said Ms Nancy, excited at the morbid concepts. A chill passed over my shoulders. In the chilly atmosphere of a vile night, as a torrent of wind made noise and the scarlet light shone on us, we stood in the middle of a forest, discussing the probable demise of one of our own.
‘We thought they may have fallen but, Jack’ — she looked at the hooded archer — ‘thinks they were placed deliberately.’
We all looked at the man named Jack for further explanation, which he provided without a fit. ‘The bullets could not have fallen. Unlike us, the scouts do not carry as much ammunition. They prefer agility,’ he explained for my sake. ‘They prefer to run in case of a confrontation, and they rely on trees to support their weight.’ I supposed that was true. Even when we found the bloody pieces of what used to be one of our scouts, we did not find many bullets. He had not fired any. He was taken by surprise and torn before he could resist. It was a truly horrible sight, and I knew I would dream of it at night. Nightmares will follow. I may not have been afraid of the sight as much as I was afraid of the nightmares. I knew that waking up panting, drenched in sweat, was exactly my next few nights. Considering the horror Mr Rupert and Mr Richard must have been through, I thought, death was a sweet relief. Pain and horrors end with death, sacrificing the living to the nightmares. ‘They carry their bullets in a padded case,’ he explained to me, but I was lost in thoughts of my own. ‘The case stops the bullets from clinking and making noises. Unless he was attacked and his case broke, he could not have simply lost them.’
‘But what if he was attacked?’ I asked.
‘He didn’t,’ Mr Jack answered, looking at me from under his black hood. ‘I found no traces of a struggle and not a single drop of blood.’ I looked around, and indeed, nothing seemed out of order. ‘I believe that he was leaving a trail for us to follow.’
‘He was leading us?’ I asked.
‘Where to?’ Ms Nancy followed.
‘I am afraid we do not know.’ The man shrugged. ‘He was either running away, leading us to his location.’ I thought the man’s eyes suddenly shone with a mysterious gleam, but I did not mention it. ‘Or he found something — something, he thought, we must see.’
‘What about the teams?’ Ms Olsberg asked. She kept her eyes on our surroundings. ‘Where are they now?’
‘We parted ways after concluding the message Rupert left for us,’ said Ms Amy. A frown accompanied her always. At first, I thought she was under stress, but the more I looked the more I became convinced that her eyebrows were shaped in the most unfortunate fashion. They were sharp, making her look surly. Reminds me of Ms Lasfield. ‘The other two groups went straight, following the trail—’
‘You let them rush towards danger?’ asked Ms Perk in annoyance.
‘It was because there was danger that we did, Martha.’ She fiddled with the butt of her cigarette. ‘Rupert surely is in need of assistance.’
‘So, you depart; what next?’ asked Mr Mason.
‘We meant to follow westward and spread the word of possible danger, seeking to inform Captain.’ She looked at Mr Harris. I thought that was a good choice. I had seen the man; he was capable. Trusting such a commander was a wise choice. The chain of command was in place for the sake of efficiency and safety, but I had read about the consequences of following a leader that harms more than helps. The commander at the battle of Solec, Illias. He was the prime example of an incapable commander. Mythos teach us much. Pity the Dean doesn’t teach anymore. ‘But we were attacked and had to rush to safety as I mentioned before.’ There was remorse on her face. ‘We were overwhelmed.’
Silent ensued. The only sound was the loud winds that became distant by the minute. The trees danced to its departure, gusts blowing through their foliage. Soon, I could feel the air turn. Skies seemed to have gathered a few more clouds. The weather has changed, I thought. Did the torrent bring them here? Weather — a subject outside of my expertise. I should find some material and the Professor of Meteorology. I hoped it was an amicable person, willing to teach.
‘Where does the trail lead?’ Mr Harris broke the silence.
‘Inside,’ said Mr Jack. ‘Towards the Cavernous Ravine.’ Suddenly, the mood worsened. Like the weather at sea, it shifted from calm to haunting. No one seemed to be pleased at the mention of the place.
‘Is it not safe?’ I whispered into the ear of Ms Nancy, who was short enough to reach my shoulders.
‘The place is— I don’t know how to describe it.’ She gave it a thorough thought. ‘It is eerie. There are rumours of it being haunted.’ I did not like where this was leading. ‘They say it was the sight of a mass murder five hundred years ago.’ Oh, please no… ‘They say that voices can be heard there.’ Please, no. ‘Last year, it was sealed.’ I do not need to know why. ‘Some students snuck and drowned there.’ Oh, Ivory, please. ‘The doctor says they died in their sleep.’ I was scared to listen to any more. ‘Investigations lead nowhere.’
Oftentimes, these stories are fictitious, and it not being so was the worst of my worries. I was, you see, very much afraid of ghost stories. I still recall the stories of pale, ghastly figures seen hanging inverted from trees, their unnervingly smiling faces watching the men that travelled alone. Shivers passed over my skin, and once again, I felt the eerie calling of the night. The sounds of the torrent could no longer be heard where we stood. ‘Drowned, you say?’ I uttered.
‘Yes,’ the unusually cheerful woman said. ‘Did you not read it in papers? Reporters were scrambling to have a look.’ I rued my habit of gleaning the thrown papers for anything related to magic and nothing else. ‘That kind has sold their souls long ago,’ said she. Indeed, reporters and journalists were not very well-loved. Horrible, that kind. ‘You will have water there, Professor. Aren’t you glad?’
‘Yes, of course…’ I somehow croaked. My lips did not listen to the command of feigning a polite smile. I could feel the horror — and if not for Ms Nancy who was ever cheerful, Mr Perk who watched our back, Mr Harris who led fearlessly, and Ms Olsberg who seemed capable of ending any living thing — I would have fainted.
‘We will depart right away,’ Mr Harris said to my terror. And in urgency, we trod the path that our colleagues had taken. Soon, we arrived, at Cavernous Ravine.
I was assured many times by the new arrivals that claimed themselves to be one of the three teams we were in search of. They had been ambushed and attacked. After some struggle, they managed to run away. I had no doubt in their ability, and yet, I doubted one could simply turn their backs on beasts. Were they not mauled? How did they keep their distance?
‘We lured them,’ explained one of the four archers. He lighted a cigarette, offering me one. I declined. ‘We heard clashes nearby and ran towards it. You were the ones we found.’
‘It was fortunate to find you with what seemed to be a torrent of wind,’ said another, receiving the cigarette and lighting it. Mr Mason too took part in the social event that was not very appropriate, considering our circumstances.
I looked at the massive hazard. My indelible disaster had come of use, still casting its shades on the horizon. It had turned to the skies, stretching it, spreading its gusts like the arms of a giant. ‘It seems to have swallowed them all,’ said the man who had come down from a tall pine tree. ‘Thirty-four in total.’ He had a hood on his head, shadowing his face, but I could tell he was not blessed in the sense of beauty. ‘It is moving towards the northeast.’ His voice was hoarse. It sounded as if he had swallowed razor blades.
‘Towards the sea?’ I asked. The forest opened towards the northeast — towards the coast and the sea. ‘It might pick pace or might dissipate. It is up to the winds. The sea is always turbulent.’ But it should dissipate. Oak’s Grove wasn’t the most suitable place for that spell, that is all.
‘Whatever the case, it won’t affect us, fortunately,’ Mr Mason said. Fortunately, that word stuck out to me. Indeed, it was fortune that saved us. Had I been more capable, cautious, and perhaps a little more talented in the handling of wind, this may never have happened. I shouldn’t belittle nature so. I had to be careful. I had to be the best example. I have to be 'The Perfect Mage.'
‘What now?’ asked Ms Perk, tying the lace of her shoes. It reminded me of my own shoes. I checked them and then tightened the lace of my gloves. It stung a little. ‘Where to?’ We had yet to find the other two teams. The group had gotten larger, but anxiety stayed the same. ‘Do you suppose they will be affected by the torrent?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said the archer, puffing smoke. The woman among them was smoking a beautiful pipe. The smell of tobacco bothered me. I did not openly mind smokers; they were very common in big cities, I was told. What played on my nerves was where they smoked. In a forest. Perhaps, I ought to be less judgemental. The night was unyielding and the terror threatened us all, but somewhere within my mind, I did not appreciate the smoke that played around the lovely conifer trees. But who am I to take offence? I had disrupted the very forest with a hazard. ‘They should keep their distance unless they are in battle.’
It was quarter past two. The light of the red moon was brighter at the hour, and the once-silent forest was filled with the loud noise of a ruthless whirlwind. At this hour, the whole of Celbrun must be awake, watching my work. In their beddings and their gowns, in the heat of candlelight and the light of the scarlet moon, many would see the whirlwind riding the gales towards the sea.
And all must have their say. Should the steam engine be not lauded? Should its creator not be named? Then, what punishment do I await? What is my fate? But the inevitable consequence was what concerned me the most. Men would wonder about the capability of mages and the danger we possess if they hear of it. And I knew they would hear of it. Should there be an investigation, how shall I answer? I had much to think about, but for now, I focused on the task at hand.
Our steps continued. We stopped our northward advance in light of the disaster of my making and continued eastward. The Oak’s Grove was behind us, and a woodland of Pines spread. I noticed the little hills lush with conifers, eerily watching us as we treaded beneath them.
As we walked, my mind went back to the smoke from before. Tobacco. The poor chew it; the rich smoke. And, in the name of social gathering and recreation, they fill the pockets of the companies that do not care for any man's health. I had seen it before — the carelessness and avarice of humanity. Be it in mining or farming, the companies made for the sake of benefit care only for the benefit. Human lives and morality had been abandoned in their dissolute and debauched pursuit. And like the smoke of cigarettes and the steam of engines, lives too fade away, lost in a luxury that has become rudimentary — a need.
In my musings, I had failed to acknowledge Ms Nancy’s gaze. And when she spoke, I was caught off-guard. ‘Professor, I have been meaning to ask you something.’
‘Hmm, yes?’
‘You are not Olish, are you?’ she said without a tone. She had a pensive look in her eyes. ‘I suppose, you do not stand out as an outsider right away,’ she murmured. Her brown eyes turned towards me, and she continued with much more confidence, ‘You appear quite young. Is it magic? Do you make yourself look young?’
I denied her allegations. ‘No,’ I said, holding back laughter. ‘This is my face. I was born with it; I have lived with it.’
She made nasal sounds for a while. I had not thought of it as a puzzle she must uncover, but the woman was not willing to let go yet. A fearless pursuit was admirable, but when the hunted is your colleague, must one continue the pursuit? I believed not, but the woman did not care. ‘You seem different. You have black eyes and black hair and that envious straight, little nose. You are too pretty. Are you from the north or another continent? Are you even a man?’
The last part hurt me. I had heard that all of my life, and I was not pleased anytime it was mentioned or brought up. I noticed the gazes of dissatisfaction towards Ms Nancy, but hidden behind a thin veil were looks of curiosity. I denied once again. ‘No,’ I said awkwardly. ‘I have been like this always — from birth.’
‘Do you not want to share the reason with me?’ asked Ms Nancy teasingly, missing all the social cues.
Yes, I thought. But, ‘No,’ I said. ‘I truly do not have an answer that may satisfy you, Ms Nancy.’
‘A gift from the gods then,’ the woman said with a heavy, half-sullen, half-interested voice. It was an attitude I was not accustomed to.
‘We are here,’ said the woman leading us. ‘This is where we last parted with them.’ I looked at the time. It was quarter to three. The time that was always so quick, today felt brutally slow. It was as if the horrifying night was keeping us from the hopeful sunlight. It would all end then. Three hours at the least. I must be patient for three hours.
‘Why did you part so late?’ asked Mr Harris. His wide eyes, interrogating the woman, felt exceedingly intimidating.
‘Well,’ said the woman, seemingly undaunted. ‘Clara felt something was wrong.’
‘And you believed that was enough justification?’ Mr Harris asked. He looked suspicious of the four. I did not share that sentiment, but a man such as him must be thorough.
‘We did not believe her at first, but’ — her voice deepened — ‘when we entertained her a little and went just a little further, we found bullets.’ I felt a sense of foreboding. ‘And none of them were fired. They were intact, with casings.’
‘And you did not inform us, Amy?’ Ms Olsberg asked, her gaze sweeping the surroundings.
‘We meant to,’ Amy, the leader of the newly-arrived group, spoke, ‘but Clara thought we should investigate. She thought Rupert might be in danger.’
‘Rupert?’ I quietly asked Ms Nancy.
She looked at me, invested in the story. ‘One of the scouts. He was sent eastward.’ I gave a nod. That was truly horrifying. So far, I was under the impression that our colleagues were in danger. But now, I felt a newfound fear. The teams may be in trouble, but the scouts must have been through worst. They were alone throughout the ordeal.
Mr Mason asked, puffing another cigarette, ‘So, he lost them? Perhaps he was running away?’
‘From something,’ said Ms Nancy, excited at the morbid concepts. A chill passed over my shoulders. In the chilly atmosphere of a vile night, as a torrent of wind made noise and the scarlet light shone on us, we stood in the middle of a forest, discussing the probable demise of one of our own.
‘We thought they may have fallen but, Jack’ — she looked at the hooded archer — ‘thinks they were placed deliberately.’
We all looked at the man named Jack for further explanation, which he provided without a fit. ‘The bullets could not have fallen. Unlike us, the scouts do not carry as much ammunition. They prefer agility,’ he explained for my sake. ‘They prefer to run in case of a confrontation, and they rely on trees to support their weight.’ I supposed that was true. Even when we found the bloody pieces of what used to be one of our scouts, we did not find many bullets. He had not fired any. He was taken by surprise and torn before he could resist. It was a truly horrible sight, and I knew I would dream of it at night. Nightmares will follow. I may not have been afraid of the sight as much as I was afraid of the nightmares. I knew that waking up panting, drenched in sweat, was exactly my next few nights. Considering the horror Mr Rupert and Mr Richard must have been through, I thought, death was a sweet relief. Pain and horrors end with death, sacrificing the living to the nightmares. ‘They carry their bullets in a padded case,’ he explained to me, but I was lost in thoughts of my own. ‘The case stops the bullets from clinking and making noises. Unless he was attacked and his case broke, he could not have simply lost them.’
‘But what if he was attacked?’ I asked.
‘He didn’t,’ Mr Jack answered, looking at me from under his black hood. ‘I found no traces of a struggle and not a single drop of blood.’ I looked around, and indeed, nothing seemed out of order. ‘I believe that he was leaving a trail for us to follow.’
‘He was leading us?’ I asked.
‘Where to?’ Ms Nancy followed.
‘I am afraid we do not know.’ The man shrugged. ‘He was either running away, leading us to his location.’ I thought the man’s eyes suddenly shone with a mysterious gleam, but I did not mention it. ‘Or he found something — something, he thought, we must see.’
‘What about the teams?’ Ms Olsberg asked. She kept her eyes on our surroundings. ‘Where are they now?’
‘We parted ways after concluding the message Rupert left for us,’ said Ms Amy. A frown accompanied her always. At first, I thought she was under stress, but the more I looked the more I became convinced that her eyebrows were shaped in the most unfortunate fashion. They were sharp, making her look surly. Reminds me of Ms Lasfield. ‘The other two groups went straight, following the trail—’
‘You let them rush towards danger?’ asked Ms Perk in annoyance.
‘It was because there was danger that we did, Martha.’ She fiddled with the butt of her cigarette. ‘Rupert surely is in need of assistance.’
‘So, you depart; what next?’ asked Mr Mason.
‘We meant to follow westward and spread the word of possible danger, seeking to inform Captain.’ She looked at Mr Harris. I thought that was a good choice. I had seen the man; he was capable. Trusting such a commander was a wise choice. The chain of command was in place for the sake of efficiency and safety, but I had read about the consequences of following a leader that harms more than helps. The commander at the battle of Solec, Illias. He was the prime example of an incapable commander. Mythos teach us much. Pity the Dean doesn’t teach anymore. ‘But we were attacked and had to rush to safety as I mentioned before.’ There was remorse on her face. ‘We were overwhelmed.’
Silent ensued. The only sound was the loud winds that became distant by the minute. The trees danced to its departure, gusts blowing through their foliage. Soon, I could feel the air turn. Skies seemed to have gathered a few more clouds. The weather has changed, I thought. Did the torrent bring them here? Weather — a subject outside of my expertise. I should find some material and the Professor of Meteorology. I hoped it was an amicable person, willing to teach.
‘Where does the trail lead?’ Mr Harris broke the silence.
‘Inside,’ said Mr Jack. ‘Towards the Cavernous Ravine.’ Suddenly, the mood worsened. Like the weather at sea, it shifted from calm to haunting. No one seemed to be pleased at the mention of the place.
‘Is it not safe?’ I whispered into the ear of Ms Nancy, who was short enough to reach my shoulders.
‘The place is— I don’t know how to describe it.’ She gave it a thorough thought. ‘It is eerie. There are rumours of it being haunted.’ I did not like where this was leading. ‘They say it was the sight of a mass murder five hundred years ago.’ Oh, please no… ‘They say that voices can be heard there.’ Please, no. ‘Last year, it was sealed.’ I do not need to know why. ‘Some students snuck and drowned there.’ Oh, Ivory, please. ‘The doctor says they died in their sleep.’ I was scared to listen to any more. ‘Investigations lead nowhere.’
Oftentimes, these stories are fictitious, and it not being so was the worst of my worries. I was, you see, very much afraid of ghost stories. I still recall the stories of pale, ghastly figures seen hanging inverted from trees, their unnervingly smiling faces watching the men that travelled alone. Shivers passed over my skin, and once again, I felt the eerie calling of the night. The sounds of the torrent could no longer be heard where we stood. ‘Drowned, you say?’ I uttered.
‘Yes,’ the unusually cheerful woman said. ‘Did you not read it in papers? Reporters were scrambling to have a look.’ I rued my habit of gleaning the thrown papers for anything related to magic and nothing else. ‘That kind has sold their souls long ago,’ said she. Indeed, reporters and journalists were not very well-loved. Horrible, that kind. ‘You will have water there, Professor. Aren’t you glad?’
‘Yes, of course…’ I somehow croaked. My lips did not listen to the command of feigning a polite smile. I could feel the horror — and if not for Ms Nancy who was ever cheerful, Mr Perk who watched our back, Mr Harris who led fearlessly, and Ms Olsberg who seemed capable of ending any living thing — I would have fainted.
‘We will depart right away,’ Mr Harris said to my terror. And in urgency, we trod the path that our colleagues had taken. Soon, we arrived, at Cavernous Ravine.
