"Not another word out of you," Enora said, putting her ancient semiautomatic handgun to Oleandra's temple. "We all saw you cast without a wand, so don't think that trick will work on us again."
"Here's your bullet's casing," said the receptionist, picking up a small shiny object from the ground. "I know how you like to complain you keep losing them."
Oleandra's eyes flashed with recognition when she saw the spent casing pass into Enora's hands. The rune of the Ever-Victorious Spear Teiwaz was engraved on it; that's how it had imbued the bullet with the magic to penetrate the Armour of Elhaz so easily!
Meanwhile, the gorilla-like woman was busy tying Oleandra's hands behind her back with a length of rope, but she was having difficulty tying knots with her sausage-like fingers.
Oleandra thought about everything she had witnessed, as she allowed herself to be bound. Three Muggles, not Squibs, all of them women, all with an intimate knowledge of magic; what's more, the items they were using all required a Wizard or a Witch to produce:
The gunwoman's equipment was enchanted, and what's more, a Runesmith was required to enchant the ammunition. Runesmiths were exceedingly rare; what were the odds that one would help Muggles create anti-Wizard weapons?
As for the other two women, they used potions offensively; however, a Wizard was required to brew them. If a Muggle tried it, they would produce nothing more than burnt stew, even with access to magical ingredients, and even if they followed the recipe to the letter.
Was there a reason Oleandra had not seen a single man so far? Had she discovered a coven of wannabe Witches? They certainly weren't scared of magic, but it didn't seem like they hated her for being a Witch in particular— what's more, their leader had to be a Witch of uncommon power…
"Wait," said the receptionist. "Before you tie her up, at least let her put her clothes back on…"
Oleandra mentally thanked her. She was going to beat her up the least, when she got out of this predicament, she thought to herself. She quickly got dressed, and then the receptionist tied her hands behind her back.
"Should we take her to the mayoress right now, Gwen?" Enora the gunwoman asked the receptionist. "It's the middle of the night; she'll be sound asleep."
"The sooner we check her memories, the better," said the receptionist, who was apparently named Gwen. "Who knows who else might be coming? We go to her now."
And thus, the motley group set out in the dead of night from the inn; with Gwen leading the march, the gorilla-woman keeping an eye on her from the left, and Enora closing the march, keeping her within her sights. They rapidly crossed the main street, as they headed towards the mansion Oleandra had seen when she had first arrived in town.
Dimly lit by the street lamps, a huge lawn sprawled across the front garden, interrupted by three parallel paths which led to the main entrance of the mansion. Rather than take the centre path to the entrance, her captors elected to walk her along the rightmost (and darkest) path, which bordered a lake.
An escape plan began forming in Oleandra's mind as they approached the end of the path. Her command over water was at its strongest when she was near a lake, so…!
A huge wave surged out from the lake, seemingly out of nowhere, and dragged Oleandra out of the gorilla woman's grasp and beneath the waves, taking her three captors completely by surprise.
"Her hands are still tied!" Gwen gasped. "She's going to drown!"
"No, she's getting away," Enora hissed, as she watched Oleandra rocket through the water to the bottom of the lake. She lifted her pistol, took careful aim, and emptied her pistol's seven remaining bullets into the water.
Oleandra desperately willed the water current to take her out of the sharpshooter's effective range; but several bullets still found their mark as she swam downwards. Luckily, the Basilisk skin robes saved her from being turned into Swiss cheese, but the force of the impacts were still going to leave angry-looking bruises by tomorrow, that much was certain. The remaining bullets either glanced harmlessly off her snake-hide armoured sides or missed completely, leaving trails of bubbles as they whizzed past her.
"Did you get her?" the gorilla woman asked her, but Enora shook her head. Through her enchanted glasses, she could see Oleandra undulating her body to swim through the water with her hands tied behind her back.
'Arondight, come on, I need you,' Oleandra thought to herself.
And just as she wished, the Sword of the Lake came to her, appearing right before her eyes. Oleandra twisted her body around and rubbed the ropes binding her wrists against its sharp blade until they snapped. Wiggling her freed fingers experimentally, Oleandra took hold of the sword with both hands.
Sadness washed over her— if she hadn't been attacked with the Killing Curse, she would currently be learning swordplay from Viviane in the comfort of her own home…
"Is she coming back up for air?" Gwen asked the sharpshooting woman, who had already reloaded her pistol with a new magazine.
"She's coming back up," Enora answered her tersely. "Looks ready for a fight."
Oleandra surged out of the water, shouting, "Isaz!" and landed gracefully on the lake's surface, sword in hand. She was untrained, so she wasn't about to start deflecting bullets with her blade. Repelling spells with her sword was one thing, but bullets were just too fast and small to accurately intercept.
"Agh!" Enora hissed. "My Luger, it's completely frozen!"
Isaz the Brilliant governed over cold and stillness, and Oleandra had just frozen the pistol's delicate mechanisms solid; she had just about had enough of being shot at! And now, only the receptionist and the brawny women were left; but they weren't about to swim over to her to engage in fisticuffs.
Now, Oleandra had a choice. Fight, or flight?
Oleandra could leave right now and never return, but she would probably never be able to find what she had come here to find. Or she could fight them, and risk bringing down even more Muggles down on her head…
She quickly came to a decision: fight it was. With their ranged fighter's weapon incapacitated, nothing was stopping Oleandra from bombarding her three opponents with spells from a distance until they were all knocked out.
"Thursaz! Thursaz! Thursaz!" Oleandra exclaimed.
Well, almost all: the gorilla woman was made of sterner stuff— she had resisted the onslaught of blows, and was now running away. Oleandra groaned; was she really going to have to run after her?