Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Six Thieves & A Ringer, Part KAK
Boris relinquished his hold on his captive, roaring as he went to his knees. Cat landed on her feet with a hiss and growl. She pounced on the bear's back and launched at the infernal glass.
Her face smashed into a solid sheet of nothingness.
“You of all people should know better, Cat." Seraphina stilled her hand and gave Cat a pitiful smile.
Cat crouched on the bartop, gently pressing her throbbing nose. "What the hell?"
"Metha, be a dear?" Seraphina massaged her temples and winced. "Check the door."
Metha raised his palms and slowly pushed against the air around him. He waved his arms over his head. His legs danced a rhythm-less jig. "Praise be. Free at last."
"Or not," Trihalo drawled. Her knuckles rapped against the air in front of the door. A solid thunk, thunk, thunk, echoed through the bar.
Metha shouldered his sister aside and reached for the door. His fist smashed into nothingness. The snap and crackle of his knuckles made everyone cringe. He ambled the length the room, pushing high and low. His fingertips whitened with each fruitless press.
Boris lumbered to the back door. Futile pounding mixed with a rising flow of invectives.
“I have to agree with the cat,” Dru groused, crossing her arms over her chest. “What the hell?”
"Seraphina, I believe we're locked in quite well," Elietan chuckled.
"Any sorcerer who can sort their roots from their rifts can throw up a shield like that." Seraphina held out her glass for a refill. "Maintaining it requires focused energy. That focus requires knowing where the jewels are. Alas, my dear friends, I don’t. All I can tell you is that someone in this bar does.”
“You kidding me?”
“I call bullshit.”
“If the thief already has the jewels, why lock us in,” Boris grumbled. “Why not run for it?”
“The jewels are tuned to three of us; their power amplified by our presence, by our focus.” Seraphina downed her drink and coughed, thumping her chest. “Whoever plans to use the jewels doesn’t know which of us he or she needs.”
“So who here knows magic other than you and elf-boy?” Metha sniffed and widened his stance.
Elietan and Seraphina exchanged cautious glances.
Elietan set his mead on the counter. “It’s …”