Chapter Fifty-Nine: Fort Rannick "The fort may be broken, but it still stands. We just have to take it back." The fort had been severely damaged in the ogre's attack on it. A gigantic hole was smashed in the south wall, debris piled all over the area ignored for about a month. The towers were unoccupied and various walls of the multi-story fort itself were bashed in. Shadows crossed through these walls, shown by the candles and torches lighting the rooms. But the worst of what could be seen was in the courtyard.
SEVEN (Part 1) "Vampy, meeting in ten," Varyar said as he poked his head into her office. "'Kay. I might be a minute." Buried in catalogs and busily scribbling notes, Vampy glanced up at the clock on her wall. It read exactly ten minutes to nine. "Wait, since when do you show up to meetings before 9:08?"
Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Black Arrows "It is black for a reason. When we are called in, the target will never see what hit them. We are the night. We are the shadows. We are Death." Shayliss heard footsteps coming closer as she coiled her grappling hook back into its loop. There were stains on its claws but otherwise it was undamaged. Those enhancements she had the mage weave into the rope were working flawlessly. Not even a loose strand poked out of the braid.
SIX Hax frowned at the stacks of reports laid neatly across his desk and took another sip of his coffee. He'd spent the better part of his morning going back over the copies of case files Mary had given him during their first few meetings, mapping out each symbol and string of numbers from each crime scene. But he'd noticed very little that might provide any answers, and indeed, seemed to be acquiring more questions. In each case, an MP had first received an envelope at their office in Westminster. Each envelope contained a cryptic symbol drawn in thick brown ink on a heavy parchment; at the bottom of the sheet was drawn a series of numbers. Neither the symbol nor the number string on any of the six notes thus delivered matched any of the others. These messages were always delivered on a Friday; Hax had been given the dates, but they had no meaning to him. From there, the MPs had each gone to their country estates to find someone -or ones- had gotten past security and vandalised one of the rooms on the ground floor, excepting the MP representing Salisbury, who instead found his prized rose garden decimated.