((Book 1 if this is your first time here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZZBHBMF))
I tumble out of the blackness and onto the pavement beyond. The sudden chill of winter compared to the temperatureless ambiance of Efra got me shivering. Monica offers a hand, and I take it. She helps pull me up, and I dust myself off. William lingers back a bit as all eyes still at the corner of Plainview and Acorn turn to us. The sun was a dying violet in the sky, and all at once the fatigue from the last 12 or so hours washes through me.
"There you are!" Came the voice of Janet.
She hops off of the edge of the truck and stomps forward.
"What took you so long? It was only a level 28."
"A level 28, are you sure?" I say.
"Of course I'm sure. That's what your Shards all said as well, right?"
"There was an army waiting there for us," Monica interjected. "Tens of thousands of Jackals."
I assume that's what she's calling the dogmen.
Janet visibly rolls her eyes at the charge.
"And you have proof of this?"
I glance back to William who was busy collecting the cash deposited on the ground. He looks up.
"I got it all on camera."
"Well...let me see."
She reaches out her hand, and William tentatively digs through his pockets, pulls out his camera, hands it over to her, and sighs. She beckons us to the corner with a raised finger. As Monica takes a step forward she falls back, and it was only then that I notice how pale and cold she is, and the blood soaking into her jeans, I frantically motion for William to support her other side as we both carry her over to the corner and sit her down on the edges of one of the trucks. William, having leveled up a couple of times pulls out some of the black dust he had used on my wound, tears open the small tear on her leg, and jams a pinch of the dust into the puncture of her leg.
"Airmid; you who first taught the Wise of Erin to bind and heal, and which of the grasses to pick, hear my voice and lend me your aid."
He utters, and Monica hisses. Black smoke rises from her leg and the wound closes. Monica falls to the side and rests her head on her brother's shoulder.
"Lawrence, can you also heal her? Just in case the femoral was nicked." William says.
I tap my forehead, and then her thigh.
"By the light of Yahweh, God of Gods, and King of Kings."
Mana pours in through my crown and out of the cane into Monica's leg. I pour as much mana through my body as I can until my head begins to throb.
"Thank you," Monica mutters.
She pushes herself off of William takes a breath and straightens herself out.
"That was a hell of a dive." She said after another shuddering breath.
She fell backward and lay her back against the metal bed of the old truck.
"So how did your fight with the god beast go?" William asks.
I feel awkward, so I push myself up from the truck and stretch out my back. All while the two of them talked of Monica's escapades in the air, I stretch out my back. While doing so I feel something press against my leg and glance down.
"Are you okay, Shadow?"
She purrs in response, and I wince as her claws dig into my leg and she climbs up to my shoulder.
How about you, Clio?
Master? You're back? I'm okay.
Did the men come to move my things?
Yes. They put me in a room with the old stuff in it.
Old stuff, what do you mean?
Before Clio could answer this question, Janet approaches the group. She looks me over and hands me a packet of wet wipes.
"You still got a bit of..." She brushes her own chin.
"Ah."
I wipe my chin off, and the white wet cloth comes away with dark red streaks. I pull through the packet until the cloths come off clean. How much blood had dried on my chin? I stuff the used cloths in my pocket.
"William, did you pick up the money?"
"Yes."
"Hand it here."
William hands over the full amount that we got from the gate: $32,000 altogether. Janet hands off the money to a nearby military man who counted it, wrote down the amount, and placed the money in a lockbox.
"You'll get your share at the end of the week," William speaks up.
"Ah."
"Yeah; half of it will go to funding Project Sisyphus and the Icarian Corps; while the other half will be divvied up between us." It was Monica who spoke up this time.
I was okay with that. I wasn't doing this for the money anyways, and a little over 5000 dollars for a day of work was not a bad pay rate in the least.
Janet then hands the camera back to William.
"We're going to be heading back to base. The higher-ups need to see what's on that; so when you're all rested up, we're getting as move on."
The last part of the sentence was directed to all of us. Higher-ups? Who? Ortega? I turn around to ask when I notice someone approaching from Plainview, glancing around; scanning what little remained of the crowd before coming up to the side of the truck.
"Hey, Lawrence."
"Is something wrong?"
"Have you seen Dylan?"
"Your niece, right?"
"Yeah. She kind of...ran away earlier today. I thought she would have come here."
I glance around the crowd as well for any signs of the boyish-looking girl.
"No... I'm sorry. I hope you find her."
"Ah, okay. I'm sure she's fine." She says.
Before our conversation could continue the last of the military men packed up the things around the parking lot and ushered us to leave.
"Ah, I heard they came by and got my stuff, right?" I ask her as I was being waved over.
"Yeah. About ten minutes after you all left." Her eyes keep scanning the crowd, "I'm sorry, I'm going to continue looking for Dylan."
"Ah, alright. Wish I could help. Thank you for the room, Jenna." I bow my head awkwardly and head to the car. "I'll keep an eye out for her while I'm out, Jenna."
"Thank you, Lawrence."
She brushes a bit of hair out of her face as her eyes scan everywhere but my face. I excuse myself once more and head to the truck. Monica and William are already sitting in the bed of the truck next to one another, so I climb in to join them. Janet sits in the front seat next to the driver and is safe from the cold wintry air whipping by as the truck begins to pick up speed.
While riding Monica turns to me.
"So; we can't get lunch together today like I said, but tomorrow?"
"Sure. If something like this doesn't happen again." I say.
"Good! Good..." She quickly tempers the excitement in her voice.
"What's up with your bag, William?" I ask as the wind begins to pick up quicker and quicker.
"Ah, it's a result of my wish."
"Really? What was your wish?"
"I wanted a bag connected to a warehouse."
"...that's a surprisingly good wish," I say. "Did you believe what was going on when you were told about Efra and Roki and all that right away?"
"Of course." He stated plainly.
His voice; without the timbre of panic, once more returned to its monotone nature.
"...how? I didn't believe a single word of it."
"Well, Monica walked in and told me." He motions to his sister. "Then I asked how I could help and got the popup on my work computer."
"And that's all it took? Her coming into your room to tell you?"
"Of course. She —"
Monica taps William's shoulder and shakes her head.
"Well, I just trust my sister. I suppose. Why, what was your wish?"
"A set of indestructible teeth," I answer.
"That's a horrible wish."
"I know." I look down at the ribbed bed of the truck. My cheeks burn. "I know."