Rite of Passage: A Full Moon Rework


The moon above shone like a diamond jewel in the clear black sky. Drew looked up and sighed in defeat. Pulling his jacket around his thin frame, he shivered in the cold night air. He did not want to be here, but his client told him that if he wasn't, he was not going to get paid then. He sighed and then frowned, wishing that he had a cup of coffee. The area around him was slightly barren, but then again, what more could you do when someone told you to meet them in a graveyard?

He had been approached by a man in a long black suit who said that his client was looking for an experienced wizard who would ask no questions. Drew didn’t know how he had been chosen for this. He was simply a bike courier. It was true that he was a wizard, but an experienced one? That was enough to make him laugh. Before he had been able to say anything to the man, about mistaken identity or having the wrong person, the man had given him a scrap of paper and told him to be at the place written on there tonight. He then mentioned that if he wasn’t, there would be no payment.

Apparently the man had looked Drew up and had found out about his ‘half before, half after’ policy. It usually made sure that anyone who procured the services Drew had to offer would not try to stiff him after the service was performed. This however had been different. Most people who came to him wanted him to find something, and most of them paid him crap. It was barely enough to help supplement the rent check. Now he was at the place that was written in the small scrap of paper.

That place had been a really old cemetery. At least it had not been Lake View Cemetery. He knew that he wouldn’t have gone anywhere near there. Looking around this place, he knew he had somehow gotten himself into trouble. What ever the case though, it didn’t matter now. He crossed his arms and tried to imagine what the gorilla in the suit had wanted. What could that man want in a graveyard to boot?

He was tired and wanted to go home. Looking at his watch, he saw that the time was getting closer to midnight. He had been here since 10:30! He zipped up his jacket and then adjusted the ball cap that was on his head. The cap had a large W on the front of it and as he pulled it over his orange tinged curls, he heard the sound of a twig snapping. Drew rolled his eyes and turned around.

Behind him a thin woman in original French dress stood. The woman was dressed in a white over-bust corset with an hourglass shape to it. Her long dress covered her straight down to the last inch of her legs and then trailed behind her. On top of her corset, she wore an exceptionally detailed bodice. There was no way that she was dirt poor like most of his other clients. Drew looked at her hair and saw that she had her long blond hair piled up into a mass of curls on top of her head in a small beehive which also allowed for the rest of her hair to fall in long wavy curls around her face and down to just above her shoulder blades. Drew's mouth all but fell open.

Drew’s mind rapidly went through several different thoughts. She seemed Otherworldly. She was rich. She was not the man in the gorilla suit. She had to be rich. She was the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long time. She had to be absolutely loaded with money. She must be willing to pay him a lot for him to come to this graveyard so late at night and on a full moon to boot. His thoughts were soon cut off though.

"Are you Drew Mullens?" The voice that came out of her mouth was soft and smooth. Drew nodded his head in dumb appreciation. Her voice was sultry, though her eyes seemed to do a lot more talking than her lips. The woman in front of him had to be worth a lot of money and if that were the case, he would be able to charge the woman a lot more than he usually did when he did these jobs. The woman stopped in front of him and stared him down with dark purple eyes and smiled slightly. Her skin appeared to be completely smooth and not a scar on it. What caused Drew to take a really deep breath though was the fact that she did not have any makeup on. Her face looked almost like a porcelain doll. The only defining mark about her was the faint smell of lilacs. She seemed perfect. He paused and then shivered due to the cold that he had momentarily forgotten.

He quietly took hold of himself and then made a deep bow in front of the woman and then said, "Drew Mullens, licensed practitioner, I even have my MW. If you wish to see proof first, I can-"

The woman held up her hand. "That is quite all right. I only want to see the code." Her voice was suddenly quite flat.

Drew sighed once more wishing once again for the tangy taste of coffee, and then looked around, almost as a paranoid habit. Of course no one would be within the graveyard. Why would anyone be inside of a graveyard? Grumbling to the darkness, Drew pulled his coat and hat off, dropping them to the ground and then tugged at the long shirt that he was wearing. Taking the long-sleeved sweater off, he shivered once again. The sweater was pooled around his wrists as he took it off. He was never very adverse to wearing undershirts, so when his bare skin hit contact with the cold air, thousands of goose bumps appeared across his flesh. As he shivered again, he motioned with his head to his right shoulder. There on his shoulder, a large barcode had been tattooed. Instead of numbers, a number of arcane runes had been written underneath it.

"That is the code I received. As I said, I am licensed here in the state of Washington. If there is anything else that you need-" Once again, Drew was cut off by a slim white hand.

"You will do." Her accent was no longer as divine to Drew's ears as it once used to be. She motioned behind him and slowly glided past him towards the center of what Drew liked to refer to as a 'lawn of death'.

Drew was left to frown and mutter and mumble more to himself as he pulled his sweater back on and then grabbed his discarded leather bomber that was on the ground. Thankfully, it was cold enough that the ground had frozen and there was no dirt on the jacket. As he pulled the jacket back on, he looked up and then heard a rather loud clatter. Drew looked back down and there on the ground was his wand. It was long ash wood tipped with a small quartz crystal that he knew he had paid too much for, even for it's terminated point.

He snarled and picked the wand back up and then shuffled after the woman. He had not been told what the woman wanted, nor even that she was a woman. He had only been told to bring his wand and where to meet the client. It was then that he realized he had left his hat on the ground back a few feet. Turning around, he went to pick that up as well. Tonight was obviously going to be longer than he had hoped for.

As he walked in the path of the woman in front of him he wondered what it was that she wanted. His normal clients were those who wanted him to find something that had been lost, or to simply check if they were hexed, or to hand them a love philter (not that he could do that legally without a specific license). He followed the woman to where a large ash tree tilted towards the ground and seemed to try to be grasping for the sky. The woman stopped and turned towards him with a small smile and then
put her hands behind her back and spoke to him again. "Have you ever done a Summoning before?"

Drew looked at her aghast. It was well known that in order to pass the exam to get one's License, that you had to perform a minor summon. "Of course I have."

The girl smiled. "Then you won't mind doing a Rite of Passage then."

Drew felt a cold chill go down his back and it had nothing to do with how cold it was outside. "I'm not so sure that I should-"

"You have nothing to worry about Mr. Mullens. You are a licensed practitioner." The words seemed to fall directly upon Drew and he knew that like it or not, he would have to do what he had been asked to do. He sighed in defeat and regret and opened his mouth to say something when, once again, he was cut off by the woman who was standing there. "Please understand Mr. Mullens, you will be paid handsomely for this job as all will be, it's just that I need this done tonight."

As a last ditch effort, Drew tried to push it aside, "I don't have any of the necessary equipment here though! I would need a lot of stuff that is not easily available here at the moment." His plea was on deaf ears however as the woman walked around the other side of the tree and pulled out a small carpet bag and plunked it on the ground in front of Drew. Drew looked at the case and realized that he had been neatly trapped into doing this magick. He looked at the ground and kicked a stray pebble that was there and then said in a quiet voice, "Umm, there is something that I am going to have to admit to you..."

"Do not worry Mr. Mullens, may I call you Drew?" Drew nodded dumbly at the girls askance. "You may call me Stephanie." Once again Drew nodded, though he thought about her name and figured that it was not the name that one would normal expect from someone dressed as she was.

"I know what you were about to tell me Drew." Drew looked at her with a gaze that signified doubt, and Stephanie simply smiled and said, "I know that you are not formally licensed here in the State of Washington." At this, Drew's mouth fell open again.

"How did you know?" The girl simply smiled. "I actually do have my MW, and I even got the tattoo done by a reputable friend! He swore to me up and down that this was a registration tattoo looked like!" Drew was stumbling over his words, trying to rationalize himself, when he realized that he had just told her exactly what she suspected. He cursed. Stephanie giggled, covering her mouth as she did so.

"I saw the tattoo on your arm and while it looks like one of the standard registration tattoos of the Seattle Council, it is not in any way one of the recognizable ones." She paused and then tapped his right shoulder where his faux tattoo was hidden under his sweater. "Real registration tattoos show a 3D representation of the barcode and do not require a wizard to take his shirt off." Drew smacked his head with palm and then looked even more defeated than he already was.

"Are you going to report me then?" Drew looked at the woman who was now searching her way through the carpetbag. As she was bent over it, she began to pull items out of the carpetbag so that they could get prepared for the magick that was needed that night. Drew watched as candles, incense, herbs, a small cauldron, a chalice, a small long handled wooden knife, and a few other implements. Drew almost laughed, but chose not to. Stephanie could very well take him into the authorities and turn him in for pretending to be a licensed wizard. The Seattle Council did not like one to imitate them. There were several cases that Drew could remember on the news, saying the horrible fates that that happened to pretenders.


When Stephanie didn't answer, Drew tried to get her attention again. "I can't perform this for you if I am not licensed right?" This statement made Stephanie stop rummaging in the large carpet bag and look back up to Drew with purple eyes.

"In order to get your license you have to have a Masters in Wizardric studies, you MW, a patron to ask for your license, and the ability to have done a Rite of Passage, which allows you to be able to pass the Summoning component of your license exam. Am i correct so far?" Drew nodded in dumb amazement. So far, Stephanie was fairly well known in what was needed for a person to get their Wizard License.

"So then it goes to show that you need this more than I do in order to make sure that you are legal to practice here." Drew crossed his arms, partly in effort to stave off the cold and partly because he wasn't sure what to make of Stephanie. Stephanie finally finished pulling things out of the carpet bag and looked Drew with her strangely purple eyes.

"I still don't know if I can perform this," Drew tried to hammer out his statement with an air of coolness, but deep in his mind, he was afraid this was a sting. The woman he was talking to right now could very well be a licensed wizard and sent by the council to flush out those who tried to practice without a license. If the Council caught him, then he could not only kiss ever getting a license goodbye, but his mediocre job as a bike courier goodbye as well. It was well known that anyone who was blacklisted by any Council across the United States, according to new laws passed, was blacklisted in every state. The only place where they would take him afterwards would be in the black market, and he didn't even have his License yet to be revoked!

It wasn't until six years ago that the laws had been passed. Before then, practicing wizardry in the United States was usually not the norm. It wasn't until the Grand Council Meeting, when wizards from all over the United States came together and marched on congress. After two days, the wizards’ demands for equal rights were heard. Bills had never been passed more quickly or more unanimously in the entire history of the United States. Two months afterwards, wizards inundated society almost like lawyers, dentists, and other patrons that were necessary but feared. Wizards filled one of those niches, and like everyone else, had to pay taxes, and still have a hierarchy. The National Society of Wizards was founded just as such a purpose and it was they, the top wizards from across the country, that were responsible, much like the lawyers bar association, that kept the standards of wizards everywhere in the United States.

Now, Drew was standing a graveyard, with a strange woman, who could very well be working for the Seattle Council and she was asking him to do something that he had never done before. Rites of passage were not an everyday common occurrence that one did at a whim. You had to have the right time to perform it, and you also had to have the right materials. "I don't know if you know this, but I can't perform this without having all the proper information." At this, Stephanie held out a piece of paper to Drew and he tentatively took it. He was half expecting to see a ticket from the Seattle Wizards Security Department. Instead, it was a small list of things that were needed to perform the ritual, all the pertinent information that was needed to perform the rite. He blinked and then looked at Stephanie.

"If you do this for me Drew, then I will promise you that you will have a patron to ask for your license."

Drew looked at her skeptically, his hands dropping to his sides. He shivered once again because of the cold and then shook his head. "You guarantee that you are not from the Seattle Council's Security Department, working undercover?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "I am not working undercover. If it makes you feel better, I am actually the daughter of the Mayor's House Wizard. My full name is Stephanie Dupree." Drew's mouth fell wide open and he dropped his wand again to the ground as he stood there and stared. The girl was politically connected! It was worse than he had originally made out to be. He groaned and Stephanie put her hands on her hips. "If you have a problem, say so now."

Unfortunately, Drew could not manage to work his mouth fast enough for Stephanie and she rolled her eyes. She seemed so much more human now than she had when Drew had first seen her. He then noticed a small amulet peaking out of her corset. He was shocked again and pointed at it. "A Sidhe Amulet!"

Like a guilty child, Stephanie pushed the amulet back into her corset and smiled rather meekly. "Sorry, I figured it would help me in winning you over."

"I thought that you were something else!" Now that Drew knew exactly what it was that he was fighting against, he muttered under his breath at her. She had been trying to use a magickal amulet to try to influence him into helping her! As if he wasn't caught already; she was the daughter of Seattle's most famous wizard, Archer Dupree! No wonder she knew so much about everything.

"Well now you know. Pick up a candle and let's get started with this all.

"Oh no, this is so not what I was up for." Drew shook his hands in the air; his wand was also shaking within his hands. "I am so not going to help the daughter of the most powerful Wizard in Seattle to perform her Rite of Passage!"

Stephanie threw a dirty look at Drew. "Listen here now Drew. You are going to help me whether you want to or not. You aren't licensed here. I could have you Black Listed because of this."

Drew pointed an accusatory finger at her. "You brought me here under false pretenses! The man who came to see me did not say anything about a Rite of Passage!"

Stephanie rolled her eyes as she put a hand on her hip. "Of course not. If he had told you, would you have come?"

Drew shook his head. "No I wouldn't have! No one in their right mind would do this!"

"And if he had told you that is was the daughter of Archer Dupree who needed your help would you have helped?"

"Never in a million years!"

"There, you see? No one would have come at all."

Drew sighed and exasperation crept into his tone of voice. "Don't you have contacts of your father who would have helped you with this? I mean there has to be a million wizards who would want to help you perform your Rite!"

Stephanie snorted, something that Drew was not even sure she was able to do in that tightly laced corset. "That's right; and everyone of them is a pompous pig hoping to bind my power to themselves." Drew frowned. He had looked over and read a few Rites, but he had never heard of anything like what Stephanie was talking about. Before he could ask, she continued talking. "If any of them were to even guess what I wanted to do, I would be clapped in Irons so fast, I wouldn't know what side was up or down by the time they were done."

Drew's eyes grew wide in fear. Even the thought of cold Iron made him almost loose his nerve. Cold Iron was one of the things that A Licensed Wizard could not touch. There was no magick within it and it was also the only substance on earth that could actually drain a wizard of their powers. Stephanie seemed to realize what she said and she winced.

"Oh, sorry about that."

Drew shook his head. "No, that's all right. I simply can't stand it." he shivered at old memories of his childhood growing up.

"Something happen?" Stephanie looked at him with a questioning look. Drew frowned and shook his head.

"Maybe I'll tell you some other time." At this Stephanie perked up.

"That means then that you will do the Rite for me?" Her voice was an octave higher than original and now she sounded like a childish little girl than the beautiful woman that he had originally seen when he had first met her.

"Yes, I will help you. I'll help you do your Rite." Stephanie let out squeal of delight and then giggled and then she pointed to the supplies. "So help me set up here."

Drew shook his head no. "First we need to have a small conversation on what happens here." Stephanie nodded her head, rather quickly. It was too quickly for Drew, but it insured him that she would probably agree with almost anything at that moment.

"First, I will be getting a patron; who will it be?"

"Me."

With that one word Drew wished he had not said anything, but he was desperate to have his license. "All right then, Second, I want you to make sure that no one, and I mean no one, hears about this at all. That includes your father."

Stephanie made a face, "He'll know that someone helped me perform my Rite and-"

"No one knows it was me." Drew's voice was a little panicked and it showed in his voice. Stephanie put a hand on his shoulder and smiled kindly at him.

"No one will know that it was you. There are thousands of Wizards who write to us who want to have us to be their patron. I'll make something up about your letter that touched me. Plus, I get to choose who I patron."

“All right then, second: Tonight is a full moon. Do you know what kind of trouble you are asking for?”

Stephanie shrugged. “Rites of Passage can only be done on a full moon. There’s no getting around it.”

Drew scowled at her. “The full moon messes with the magickal energies that we use! There is no way in the eighty-one hells that any wizard worth his salt would cast a spell now unless he had backup.” he waved his wand at the sky in reference to the moon as well as to back up his point.

Stephanie gave him a bland look and then said, “If that was the case, then why did you agree to tonight?”

Looking down at the ground, Drew mumbled, “I think it has something to do with money.

“Money solves everything,” Stephanie said matter-of-factly as she crossed her arms.

“Yeah well, you do know that it could be potentially dangerous-”

“With you not having your license and all? Yes, I know. But when I am given the choice of doing this on my own, or having my father plan it for me, I am more than willing to pay you and be your patron for the chance to have my own Rite preformed properly.” Stephanie shrugged at that moment as if it explained everything.

Drew nodded his head and looked down at the ground and picked up one of the small white candles that was laying near his feet. "Well then, lets get this done. Where do you want the circle drawn?" He looked at the paper and read down the list of requirements. Taking stock of the moon and the time, he looked at his watch again. It was twelve past midnight. They had a total of eighteen minutes left. "By the way, why did you choose a cemetery to do this?"

Stephanie shrugged and then looked rather annoyed. "When you summon something, you have to draw a circle. In order for it to be truly useful, a circle can't have any holes in it anywhere. That means no pipes, cracks, or anything else can be going through the ground as they provide a hole in the circle's walls." Drew nodded and then shrugged his shoulders. He had heard such things before in classes he had taken while in college, but he had never needed to use a circle since then, so he never really paid any attention to it.

“That’s true, but that’s only if the Otherworld is going to be accessed.” As Drew spoke he looked at Stephanie and then when she didn’t respond back to him, he cursed out loud in a rather foul manner.

“I refuse. Deal off. I don’t want to play this game anymore, I am going home.” Drew turned to walk off and Stephanie grabbed hold of his arm.

“I don’t think so. You go now and I tell everyone what you have been up to and report you to the council.” Drew tried to jerk his arm away from the girl’s iron grasp and managed to get himself free after two attempts.

“That is blackmail,” Drew hissed as he rubbed his arm.

Stephanie tapped her foot on the ground and looked rather pleased with herself. “Call it what you like, but I usually get what I want.”

“Stuck up brat.”

“Two bit un-licensed hack.”

That one stung. Drew frowned and then gave into the girl’s whims. “I hope your father told you how dangerous it is to summon Otherworld energies?”

Stephanie once again rolled her eyes and looked up at the moon in the sky. “There is no problem with summoning it in a circle.”

Drew exploded on her in a flurry of hand and wand shaking. “We could blow ourselves away with Otherworld energy! We’re in a graveyard for heavens sakes!”

Stephanie motioned around her and exploded back. "There are very few places within the city where you can make a circle large enough to cast a Rite! All of those places are watched, every single last one of them. The only place that has a large enough area that is not watched is this graveyard. If you want to have my father come down and descend upon us mid-rite, then go ahead and suggest another place!"

Both of them stood staring at each other until Drew nodded his understanding and then sighed. He looked down at his watch. "Less than ten minutes. Let's get this over with."

“As long as we make the call before the allotted time, we should be fine.” Stephanie’s tone indicated a know-it-all. When you lived with Seattle’s most powerful wizard as a father, how could you not be one though? Drew pointed his wand upwards with an acerbic look on his face in response. Stephanie simply pursed her lips.

Moving quickly, Stephanie began to set up the items around them to form the layout for the circle, which was at least 12 feet across. Drew grumbled to himself and held out his wand and then began to trace the necessary symbols in the air. As he traced over the air, the invisible lines became visible from the end of his wand. Orange symbols floated in the air and intertwined with each other as they hung there. He turned to Stephanie as soon as he was done and balked as she handed him a white candle and then lit it with a lighter from her other hand and then lifted her won candle from the ground.

"Are you ready then?" Stephanie looked at Drew with a bit of a smile that he could not help but smiling back.

"Remember, no one knows that I did this for you then." Drew's tone was rather low and Stephanie rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out.

“Also try to remember that something could go wrong because of the full moon.”

Ignoring Drew, Stephanie closed her eyes and then walked to the East side of where the circle was going to be and began by calling the Watchtowers.

"Hail to thee, Ancient ones of Air!
Blow soft around us this night
That the restrictions and pains of childhood
Will be but memories in the mind of the adult."

Drew looked at her and frowned as he held his candle out and then said, "Is that really necessary? Do you have to use that antiquated version?"

"Antiquated? Listen here, I have it on grand authority that-"

"No, I don't think so. Your authority is a bit wrong. Since I am the wizard that is doing this, I think that we should do this my way. So here's what is going to happen; you are going to stand in the South end of the circle." Drew motioned her with his wand and she walked over there with her candle. Drew placed his candle in the center and then said, "Instead of doing this the way that you wanted, we are going to do this my way." He raised his wand and uttered something under his breath that he was sure Stephanie would not be able to make out and then around them almost instantaneously; a large bubble of multicolored force surrounded the twelve-foot circle. He looked back at Stephanie who did not look amused at all.

"That was the instant circle they taught you in school wasn't it?"

Drew shrugged. "Sometimes, things to save time are better than the long and arduous casting. We need the energy and the way I see it," he looked to his watch and shook his head. "We have less than five minutes left to us if the time table on the paper you gave me is going to work."

Drew quickly stalked his way to the North side of the circle and then pointed his wand directly above him and began the incantation, closing his eyes. Across the circle, Stephanie also closed her eyes and from around them, the winds of the Otherside began to blow. Swirling through them and the circle, their hair was picked up in a gust of wind that was only apparent within the twelve-foot circle. The winds whipped across the area as Drew continued his incantation in Latin, one of the original wizardric tongues.

" Beatus Era of mille Nomen, Vos quisnam professio Virgo, Matris quod Crone. Tribuo ut is nox noctis bindings of childhood ero infractus Quod vinculum inter matris quod filia exsistofulcio. Pro duos, ut sic pondero per totus partum, Es tamen statua of thee in thy divinus Trinity. Valde Senior Ancient unus of ager quod Conjux ut nostrum Era, Nos scisco utsententia wouldst tribuo a postulo of vestri diligo quod tutela ut is quisnam mos nunc suo pugna illae vita. Repleo suus per scientia of thee ut sancutary Quod tribuo ut pacis may insistosuus usquequaque-"

At that moment, in the middle of his incantation, he was cut of by a loud crash of thunder. He felt as if he was stuck on the side of his head and fell to the ground grasping his wand in one hand and his head in the other. Looking up, he saw that Stephanie was also on the ground and across from them, there was a rather large cloud forming in the center. He tried to reach out and he heard Stephanie speak. His vision began to get hazy and he knew that something was wrong.

A loud voice boomed over the rest of the circle. “We are the Great Spirits of the world. Here in this circle we have been called and come forth.” The sudden flapping of large wings could be seen and through the haze of smoke, Drew saw a large raven. As Drew stared, he saw that the raven was looking directly at Stephanie who was on the ground looking up in a mixture of fear and wonder.

The giant raven opened its mouth and spoke once more. “Called we here to this Circle round. What will you have of us?” Stephanie looked at Drew who was trying to open his mouth to warn her, but instead, he saw the fear melt away from her.

“I, Stephanie Dupree, have called you forth in this, my Rite of Passage.”

The raven regarded her with a curious eye. Stephanie stood up and her hands were at her sides as she looked up into the raven’s impenetrable gaze. They stared each other down until the raven finally spoke aloud.

“Small child who has come before us, have you a gift to spare unto us to show your coming of age?” As the raven spoke Stephanie nodded fiercely and pulled something out of her blouse that Drew could not see. She offered it up and then the raven cawed loudly.

“Offered to us is a most generous gift. We shall take what has been given. Is there anything else to be said?”

Drew tried to reach out to stop her, thinking that something had gone wrong. He knew it had to be because of the full moon that shone above them and their working. He wanted to stop her from offering anything that might be too much. He was furious with himself for agreeing to this. The energies from the Otherworld were obviously too much for them to handle by themselves. Drew tried to scream a warning to the girl, but as he opened his mouth, but he felt a force slam into him and the surrounding area went silent and dark.

When Drew woke up he was being cradled in the arms of Stephanie whose hair was in disarray and not much else. She looked at him and then sighed. "Thank gods that you are awake. I thought I was going to have to leave you here; and after I promised you patronage too!"

Drew looked around and noticed that it was almost daytime. Slumping in her lap, he took a rattled breath and then struggled to pull his watch up to his face.

"It's almost 6:45 in the morning." Drew groaned. He was going to be late for work this morning.

"You're kidding me right?" He gasped for a breath as he tired to rise and his whole head seemed to swim and he fell back into Stephanie’s arms.

"You got a pretty nasty bump to the head, although I am not sure how." Drew wanted to tell her it was because of the fact that they preformed a dangerous magick on the might of the full moon, but he decided to keep his mouth shut for the moment.

"Did the Rite go alright?"

Stephanie smiled rather slightly and then broke out into a grin. "Yes it did." She flexed her fingers and a small spark seemed to jump from one finger to another.

Drew rolled his eyes and then said, "Show off." Stephanie giggled again.

A sudden notion came across Drew and he looked at Stephanie. "By the way, how old are you?"

The girl smiled sweetly and then said, "I just turned sixteen." Drew groaned. She wasn't supposed to have a rite of passage done until she was eighteen. Oh well, he didn't care, he was going to have a patron that was younger than him.

"One thing that you should know as my patron," Drew said as he sighed.

"What's that?" Stephanie looked at him quizzically.

"I am never working on the night of a Full Moon ever again."

Stephanie simply giggled.

Online Portfolio

So I went online to look around for a freelance writing gig. I was on Freelancewriting.com when I found a link called Freelance Portfolios. I walked around the site for a little while and then added in a portfolio of my own. It can't hurt. After I submitted said portfolio I was given this message:

Congratulations! You successfully submitted your portfolio. Please allow 4-5 days for us to approve your portfolio unless you chose "24-hour Approval." Once we approve your portfolio, you will receive an e-mail.

Say that one again? Did you say the words "approval"? I need to have you approve my portfolio? That could possibly explain why there are only 1776 registered users and out of those, only 332 portfolios on the site. After all, we don't want to have just any old person getting their portfolio online.

It is small things like these that make me wonder what it is that we are so worried about. There are other sites where one can place their workk online, one such popular place being DeviantArt. Here people place their artwork online, be it illustration, photographic, or prose of some sort. There, people can buy an account for extra options, but it is not necesarry in order to post your work on it. There is many of these sites around. I will keep you informed as to what this site leads to. Stick around. It should be amusing to see what they will allow for.

So I decided to post another part of the reliquary story. I'm going to try this style for a little bit as it is a different style than the one I was working with in Oracle. Here is part 2:

Denis looked at the woman and shrugged his shoulders. "I think that I prefer you not to look into the future for me. I am just happy knowing the future when it comes to me." He nodded his head and Mrs. Clarens looked at him with a quizzical look in her eyes and then screwed up her lips.

"Huhhh. Well, that's just fine then. I got me what I came here for, but oh yes." The old woman reached into her large purse which looked for all the world that it could hide an elephant with ease. "I got a book for you then.

"A book for me?"

"Huhhh. That's right I got a book for you. I came across it when I was going through my old books."

"Cleaning out the shelves in your house?" Denis smiled benignly.

The old woman frowned. "Listen here, I am not as old as you make me seem."

Denis actually chuckled. "I never said that you were-"

"I know what you said, and what you didn't. It wasn't what you said boy, but what you implied." Mrs. Clarens began to root around her purse again. After a few moments, she pulled out a small, but surprisingly thick book. On the cover o it, in bright yellow lettering was the title "How to Save the World".

"Seriously?" Denis' surprise was more than obvious and he wasn't able to hide it when the woman handed him the book in her wrinkled hands.

Mrs. Clarens made a moue with her mouth and then said, "Of course! you should read it. I t could come in handy at some point in time. It would be a great asset to you."

"This book... an asset?" He turned the book over and there was nothing on the hardback book's back. There wasn't even a dust jacket for the novel. Just the large printed letters. He turned over the old novel again and then flipped it open.

"Huhhh. It's a good book. You keep it now. Don't let it get lost in the store."

Denis looked up at the old woman and once again shrugged his shoulders in an effort to show no indifference. "I'll think about it."

The old woman slammed her hand against the counter top with a rather loud sound. It made Denis jump. The woman's eyes were glittering pools of darkness all of a sudden. Her body appeared to be suddenly rigid and there was a sense of power behind the old woman and she stared him down. "You better keep that book boy. You better read it too." Denis looked back at her and nodded his head in a dumbfounded fashion. The woman suddenly became small and imposing once more. "Huhhh. You better."

Denis shivered slightly and then placed the book on the counter. "Is there anything else that you need?" There was a slight waver in his voice and he watched as she pulled a small lighter from her purse and lit the cigarette before she opened the door and nodded at him.

"You just keep yourself in good order. I don't want to hear about nothing bad happening. Remember to keep the book." Mrs. Clarens walked out letting the cowbell attached to the door jingle slightly and she nodded before taking a long drag of her cigarette. She nodded to him. "See you again then Denis. Remember to tell me what you thought of the book the next time I come in to see you."

Denis simply nodded his head again as the old woman left the small store and left Denis with her words. They were words that seemed to smack of prophecy. He thought about it once more and then rolled his eyes and turned to walk back to the Mystery section. Once there, he forgot all about the book and began to shelve the books. It was not another minute before the phone rang again. He frowned and sighed as he slowly traveled the length from the mystery section to the front counter and leaned over the counter and picked up the phone once more. Once again, loud sounds of static screamed through the telephone and he rolled his eyes. He was about to hand the phone up when he heard the voice.

It was high pitched and it simply said, "We're coming!" The voice was so inundated and blurred by static that he could not make out anything else. As he frowned in puzzlement, he heard a wind. he looked to the door and it wasn't open and then realized that it was coming from the other side of the store. As he looked over at the mystery section, he saw the curtain flutter from behind the bookcase in the romance section that was jutting out. He frowned and then heard a yell. Denis dropped the phone in his hand which had gone silent and then tried to rush his way to the mystery section. Before he made it past the children's section, he saw the curtain flutter and the bellow of a man could be heard. He stopped just short of the other side of the bins right before the mystery section and saw a large man thrown into the bookcase in front of the curtained door. The man heaved with a grunt and tried to stand up when he was thrown to the floor again by another small body that was thrown at him at the same velocity from the same place.

The second body was that of a small girl dressed in a small white sundress. She eased her hand to her head and rubbed what appeared to be a bump under her long dark brown tresses. The man, who was almost as burly as a lumberjack, and even looked like one as well. The girl looked around the store and then looked directly at Denis. as she did so, she tugged at the lumberjack-man's sleeve and then said, "I don't think we are in Kansas anymore."

The burly man shrugged his shoulder and then said, "We're from Canada. We never were in Kansas."

Freelance Work and Other Places to Work

Today I talked with Mike - .

He's a writer and I discussed with him the validity of basically writing for a living. Not everyone needs to be able to write a novel there are other things. Here's a list of what we discussed:

1) Contract writing: Guru.com is a prime example as was sologigs.com. (looked some more... found these: Craigslist.com, elance.com, freelancewriting.com, hotgigs.com, and write4cash.com.

2) Really get published, even if it is only technical writing and not paying. guru.com is a good place to get paying jobs, but really, you need to get some writing and hone your craft. That also means taking the occasional creative writing class, which I have never done before. This could be the start of contacts, and the next Tom Clancy could be sitting next to you. These classes (held at local community colleges actually)

3) Seriously... I know a lot of trivia. Perhaps I should write about that. Write a book based on some specific amount of trivia that you know about. There are plenty of people who do it, why not me? For example "The Book of Questions and Answers".I had this book as a child and remember questions such as "How did the dinosaurs die?" and "Why do we hiccup?". It was awesome to read. So I could possibly write the same thing.

I also asked him about my help problem. The one where I just can't seem to ask for help. Well, as I was talking to him, what was it that I was doing? I was getting ADVICE, not help. That means that all I really have to do is to rephrase it in my head. Getting help makes me think of someone else doing it for me, where as Advice, I can listen, take tat, use it if I wish or not (more often than not use it of course), but it takes out the stigma of me having to "ask for Help" and feeling like I am having everything taken away form me.

He also suggested that I go back over the original sites I was at (e.g. Writers.com), and really investigate the sites for information as well as other contract writing sites.

Notes on the sites:
(For all sites, it is suggested that you join)

Guru.com - Interesting site. though for most of it, they wish for you to have a portfolio, but after signing up, you could wind up with a lot of money made for proposals and other such miscellany of jobs, anywhere from writing, to illustration, to almost anything that is useful in the job market.

Sologigs.com - appears to have been shut down. Can't seem to find the site itself, but a lot of other sites are talking about it.

Craigslist.com - I don't know how the HELL I missed this site in my searching. This is literally a Free lancer's dream. Everything from everything is there. Anything that you needed to be freelanced is on this site, and it goes over most of the world, though it uses certain cities as hubs, some of them are hard to find (like the D.C. one). However, my dad called it the largest classified ads section in the US. How was it that I missed this again? Not sure, but now I know. In response... this site is just great.

Elance.com - very similar in take and presentation to Guru.com. It is almost an exact duplicate, though it is is a little harder to grasp hold of at first, it does become infinitely easier to navigate. Though the amount of jobs is largely less populous than it's counterpart Guru, which seems to be where everyone is headed.

FreelanceWriting.com - This site seems to have it all. Jobs, contests, even a small section where they type daily news on all aspects of writing. It even has weblogs pertaining to specific sections of writing, from screenplays, to books, to even writing query letters. Also within are large listings of venues in which to publish, complete with submission guidelines and all other pertinent information. The weblogs are mostly sites that are not connected to this one, but have some good information on some of them, while others are simply try to sell you something.

Hotgigs.com - Very easy to navigate. Also a rather good site. The best part about it is that you can find things easier than all the other sites aforementioned except perhaps Craigslist.com.

Online-Writing-jobs.com - I was unexpectedly directed to this site after clicking on what appeared to be a link to somewhere else within Hotgigs. I thought I had seen a link for the same site in FreelanceWriting.com, and sure enough, it was the same. A little hard to read and almost like the old Yahoo search listings - blue links with little information. There is still a plethora of jobs to be had on here.

Write4cash.com - It appears that this site too, has vanished and gone off the face of the web. It no longer exists, but if you want the url, feel free to go there and buy it.

There are also other sites, such as the following:

Writing.com
FictionPress.com
ForWriters.com
Writing Science Fiction and Fantasy (a personal favorite)
Science-Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (not because they are into Sci Fi and Fantasy, but they really have a great section on how to market your writing as well helpful tips on how to write)
WritersDigest (what list would be complete without this and their wonderful edit guide)

Well, there is my information for today. Expect my excerpt later tonight.

Reliquary Part 1

This is a small story I've been cooking up for a while. Jsut a short story, but I'll place parts of it within here as well. Tell me what you think:

The store was simply called Hole in the Wall, and it was just that, a hole in the wall. To many, the store was actually simply a small place where many could get books. To Denis, it was a job. He liked working in the small used book store. After all, there was not much else that he enjoyed in his life. He was behind the counter, picking up a small stack of books when his hair fell into his face once more. He pushed the dark strands of brown away from his face and came back up with the books in his hands. Looking over the titles, he realized that they were mostly mystery books.

The store had been getting quite a few of those lately due to people suddenly wanting to read them due to popular authors making more books in the genre. He particularly didn’t like mysteries, but they were something to read. Hole in the Wall Comics and Used Books was actually a small house at one time. Before the current owner had bought the place to turn it into a bookstore, it had been a surf shop. How many people this far inland would need a surf shop?

The store still retained it’s useless interior design, but was now covered from top to bottom in bookshelves, and books that needed to be shelved. The front was rather crowded; a large bookcase to the left of the front entrance, and a large register space on the right covering most of the area where the houses’ porch used to be. Thought the secondary front door, one was led to the main interior, where several comic book spinners took up space, touting comics from new to old. Amongst them, a single spinner conspicuously filed with books.

In the direct center of the room, taking up most of the space was a large section of bins made out of wood and nailed to the floor. Hundreds of old comics from the 90s had been stuffed in there in an effort to try to get people to peruse them as were old copies of magazines past and present. On the right wall, hundreds of literature books managed to squeeze themselves into the walls and pile themselves into small neat and tidy piles by author’s name and then title. On the opposite wall, everything from children’s books to historical books were placed. To the immediate left of the literature books, another doorway leading to a small hallway that ran parallel with the store led to several rooms.

To one end of the hallway, the small bathroom, and alcove of hardback books was hard to miss as was the path past them to the horror books. The hall was easily only wide enough for one person to walk down, however, it too was piled with books on the floor; yet people somehow managed to get through there towards the back were the entrance to the register was without causing anything to fall over. On the rafters of the area, above all the books, even more hardback books, mostly historical fiction and authors pertaining to Arthurian Legend. Also back there, hundreds of little cubbyholes, all with names printed on anything from blue to pink to white cards. These small cubbyholes were adjustable and often filled with comics for those who had a subscription held here at the store.

On the opposite side of the hall, the most sought after section also appeared to be the most overly stuffed and never seemed to be in order as well: Fantasy and Science Fiction. The small room had shelves on the walls that were crammed to the point of bursting. It was here that people often complained of book avalanches. It was here where books, placed precariously on the stacks within the room and stacked almost waist high due to high volume would fall over at complete random or because people would upset the delicate balance system that employees had made within the room to try to keep them all upright. Denis was more often fixing things in this room than in any other place within the store much to his chagrin. It wasn’t that he disliked the books, he was simply annoyed by the massive volume of them. Thankfully, he didn’t need to worry about them at that moment. The small stack of books in his hands, he headed down the hall and turned into the main room.

Directly across from the store’s front door was another small nook that led around the back of the Science Fiction section to a set of stairs that led to the basement of the store where there were stacks of even older comics than what they had on the spinners and bins, as well as boxes of even more books. Directly on the wall leading to this stairwell was another set of bookshelves and a small pushed in set of shelves next to it. On the pushed in shelves, Romance novels spilled off the shelves. Denis always looked at it and saw nothing but large biceps, women is flowing dresses, and what he considered to be sap. If there was ever a type o genre that never had needed to be created, Romance was it.

He placed his stack of books on the floor and began shelving it. Next to him, the stairs were covered by a rather large throw-rug, or sheet, or whatever the hell the hanging cloth was supposed to be called. Since he had begun work there, the cloth had always looked rather ugly. A mish-mash of browns oranges, deep burnt yellows, and a rather disgusting garish red that made his stomach turn. He always made sure that he never ate right before he shelved the mystery books, just being in close proximity to the makeshift door made him queasy.

As he began picking at the books in accordance to the authors, he began making a mental tally of what they needed. It appeared that they had way too many of some books and not enough of others. He made a listing of the Authors in his head and made sure to keep them straight so that he could write a note to his boss. She was always wondering what they needed more of. When told, she would find the books and bring them into the store. It was rumored by many who had worked at the store previously that she had a large yellow school bus with nothing but books in it hiding out at her house. Denis knew he would have to see it himself before he believed it.

It was not that Edith was not a good boss, but she seemed defiantly often lost in thought over what it was that she was doing. She often would hold a book and sometimes forget that she was shelving and wind up carrying the book around the store for hours before she realized it. The good thing though was that her mind had memorized every book that was within the store. If she was working while Denis was on his shift, he would often ask if they had a book and Edith would be able to tell instantly if they had it in stock, where it was on the shelves and how many copies they had, hardback or paperback. That made dealing with calls where people were looking for something in particular a lot easier to work with.
Denis shoved an Agatha Christie book into the shelf and sighed at himself. Reaching down for another mystery book, he saw the curtain door shift slightly as if in a breeze. He narrowed his eyes and then reached out and pulled the curtain to the side. Looking down the stairs that lead into the darkness of the basement, he looked for anything that was out of place. Down the stairs went and then ended on a little landing, which then had stairs running down to the left into the actual basement. To the right of the landing, the back door stood locked firmly against intrusion. Denis frowned and then closed the curtain and continued to shelve mysteries. He had finished shelving the first pile when the phone rang.

He muttered silently to himself and then ran over to where the phone was next to the register. Leaning over the counter, he picked up the little black phone and spoke into the receiver. “Hole in the Wall Books. How may I help you?”

There was a crackle of static and a loud roaring noise on the other side of the phone. He pulled it away as the phone made a keening noise that was obviously a cordless phone’s feedback. He tried to stay with it, but wound up hanging the phone up instead. As he hung up the phone he was walking back to the mystery section when the front door opened and the cowbell that was attached to it rang. He turned around putting a smile on his face.

“Welcome to hole in the Wall. Anything that I can help you with?” His voice was cheerful and almost a little jumpy at its insistence. A familiar voice called back in response.

“I already know what I want. I just want to know if you have it in stock.”

“Mrs. Clarens. I thought you would be stopping in today.” Denis smiled even wider as the old woman came into view. Her dark skin was covered by a rather large shawl and she smiled a rather toothy grin at him and waved. In her mouth was a large unlit cigarette and her green eyes danced as she spoke back to him.

“Do you have a light then?”

“Now you know better,” Denis chastised. “Edith doesn’t like anyone to smoke in the store.” Denis moved himself down the hallway so that he would get behind the register to help the woman who was a regular at the store. The old woman had been coming to the store for almost as long as Edith had owned it. She had around fifteen grandchildren in various stages and was often getting them books because she believed that reading was healthy for a good mind as well as a good standing in the world. Denis had personally met every single last one of her grand children and had discovered that all of them were exceedingly smart.

Mrs. Clarens chuckled slightly and removed the cigarette from her mouth and smiled at him in a rather disarming way. “Well, there was always the chance.”

Denis shrugged his shoulders. “I doubt it will ever happen. So what can I help you to find today?”

“I was coming in for the Nancy Drew book that my young granddaughter Audrey had wanted.” She good naturedly tapped her hand at a book in the shelves behind her. If someone had walked in, they would have thought that the old woman was ignoring Denis.

Denis walked into the small back section where they stored some of their anthologies and stored books that people had called for and were coming in to pick up. Digging around he found two Nancy Drew books and called out to Mrs. Clarens. “We have two books. Are both of them yours?”

The woman’s voice floated back in surprise. “Two? Well, I’ll take a look at both of them. Perhaps Edith took out two of them for me.” Dennis nodded at her idea and then walked straight to the front counter where the old woman was adjusting her shawl, her cigarette was absentmindedly tucked back into her mouth. He placed both of them on the wooden counter and she smiled as she looked at them, her eyes lit up.

“I remember reading these when I was younger. They bring back good memories.” Denis nodded his head almost absentmindedly, not quite sure at what it was that she was trying to say. She smiled and then placed both books on the countertop again and said, “I will get both of them. She’ll love them both.”

Denis nodded and looked on the inside covers where, written in pencil, was the discounted prices for the books. He totaled them up on the register and cash exchanged hands with the books. “Do you want a bag for them?”

The woman shook her head. “No. I can carry them myself.” Mrs. Clarens started towards the door and then pulled the cigarette out of her mouth. “If you like, I can tell your future.” Denis froze and looked at the woman, narrowing his eyes. The old woman merely stared back at her and smiled at him.

“I could do it you know.”

It was a well known to some of the people that worked at the used book store that the old woman was a bit of an eccentric, and she thought she could tell the future, but many people swore by the old woman’s skills. Many still didn’t believe her in the first place and thought that she was just trying to get attention. She had proffered the chance to have his future read by her many times, but he had always turned her down. Denis was more than content to not know what was possibly in store for him.

Musical Notations and Notes

All right. Aside from the normal typing, a writer always has something that affects them, be it a specific place to write, to music that they listen to, to things that they eat and drink or the way they interact with their surroundings in order to form a more perfect writing experience. I would like to discuss how music affects us when we are wrtiing and tell you some of the music that I have been listeing to as I write. Beleive it or not, I have a lot of music that is international in its simplicity. I find that international music makes the difference for me. I listen to a popular jpop singer who goes by BoA. Actually, that is her first name, Boa Kwon. She is actually originally Korean, but she crossed over to Japan. One song that everyone seemed to like was "Don't' start Now" and one of my favorites "Valenti". It's upbeat tones seems to have me make the words fly off the computer.

Game music also seems to affect me. Sometimes I find myself listening to music from the popular videogame eries "Final Fantasy" especially the new ones. They are
all written by the popular composer Nobuo Uematsu I swear that the man is a genius. I love his style and the way some of his music actually seems to transport me as well as the myriad of styles that he uses.

Sometimes though, I also like to simply turn the TV on and let it play in the background, because if typing at home, one does not get enough background noise and hte house becomes creapily silent at times and is really bad. I'm sure that we are all laughing at the person who is afraid of silence, but it's true. I find it creapy and jsut cannot produce work.

I have a friend who recently (about a year ago), moved to Seattle. The reason she moved was because of the rain. It appeared that she could only write when it was raining outside. As you can see, even the weather can affect us. Perhaps later I will write down the list of music that has benn the most inspirational to me as I was writing this and other works.

Finishing up Chapter 3

I understand that this part is a bit shorter than normal, but I just wanted to make sure I put something up rather quickly. I do notice that I have the tendancy to type late at night. That is alright though. Blogs should be created at the end of the day correct? Something I noticed about this story though is that I have no idea why I included the black staff. I am thinking of taking it out, but I have no feedback to work back upon. I am not sure if I should leave it as is, or perhaps, make it an integral part. I seemed to have typed in what looks to be a McGuffin, but I have to figure out how it works. I think I might have made a mistake then. Well, all good writer's figure things out. I can figure this one oue.

Ildis’ Stable was actually rather large, and on top of that, was only a little down the ways from the guard station. Was everything going to turn out bad tonight? He hoped to the Gods that it wouldn’t. As he turned the corner, he saw that there was not a single guard at the post. ‘Maybe I am going to be lucky tonight,’ he thought. As he moved into the stable, he heard the familiar nickering and whuffing of the horses.

He walked down one of the ways inside when he encountered a youth. He had to be no more than six. He had a mop of brown unkempt hair, which had straw all over it. He looked up into the cowl as if to see a face and then quickly moved back to what it was that he had been doing. Luc smiled at the boy, who couldn’t see it and then said, “Do you know where I can find Mistress Ildis?”

The boy looked up at him from cleaning the stall and looked at him long and hard. Another boy suddenly came from the other side. “Hevral, have you finished cleaning…” He stopped short, brown eyes narrowing. “Who are you?” His voice was that of trying to be gruff, but he was only a few years older than the other boy. The only thing that gave it away was that his voice still had yet to crack.

“My name is Lukkis…” The boy’s features softened almost instantly. “Oh, you must be the man that was to visit Uncle Landris and Aunt Helen’s shop. Don’t worry; mother will be around in a while. Tym and Rych both went out to get your stuff. We just got the message.” The boy talked nonchalantly about it as if nothing was really going on. Then again, if your stable was outside the guard station, then you had most likely seen it all. Again, Luc smiled at the helpfulness of Anyankis and her relatives.

“That’s nice. Could you help find some horses then while we wait for your mother?” The boy nodded and they both set off down the stalls. As they reached one with a gray mare in it he pointed to her. “This is Poppy. She’s one of our best. She don’t mind too much, you just gotta make sure that you don’t feed her too much, she’ll they to gorge herself. The poor little thing, one would think that we don’t feed her enough, yet she gets more than all the other horses in the stables here!”

The boy shook his head. “She’s a good mount though, she won’t bolt or nothin’. Either she’s too dumb to, or she’s too stubborn to. I dunno which. Personally I think she’s too stubborn to. She’s just that kind a horse. She usually isn’t though.”

The boy then moved on to another horse named Lochten. He was a gray as well, but he came from stock that was bread by Illen’faie. He was a good mountain horse if nothing else. He would listen so long as the rider didn’t try to use reins on him. He also followed if told to. Luc thought that he would make a good packhorse.

They went through several more horses, some without names, others named because of what they did, like Patch, whose coat and mane were so patch worked, they had no clue what kind of horse he was. The boy however, loved him dearly and was in the process of feeding him a lump of sugar when a woman walked into the stables.

She was tall and had dark hair herself, although what color it was, brown or black, one could not tell because of the darkness. The lamps that were hung inside did not do much to illuminate the color so much as it did the shine. She had dark eyes, which looked him over rather fast just to sum him up. Her skin was actually darker than he had expected; a light earth brown. She wore a loose-fitted blouse and a pair of pants that were obviously belonging to a man.

She stepped right up to Luc and said, “I won’t do business with someone whose face I can’t see…” Luc shook his head. “Well then, I’m sure that I can go and find business somewhere else.” The woman shook her head and looked at Luc with a hard gaze.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

Luc shrugged.

“However, because I have received word from my cousin Anyankis; and the horses seem to take more than a liking to you; I will do business for you.” She was crisp, if not concise and that amused Luc. “I understand that you need four horses?” She asked him the question expecting a straightforward answer Luc sensed so he spoke a simple yes and she nodded. “So then, I’ll pack up a horse with your gear… Tym! Rych!” Her voice rang out and Luc looked out the door, afraid that the city guard would descend upon him in a moment. What descended however was much different than what they expected.

Two boys with dark reddish-brown hair stumbled into the barn. As son as they did, Luc knew that the two boys were twins. They were about seventeen years, but Luc was sure that they could have been older, for what they looked about twenty. He nodded to them from underneath his cowl, which made them nervous, but after a minute they seemed to relax.

“Thank you for your help. I will be sure to tell others…” he was cut off when she pointed to the black staff in his hand. “They gave it to you? That’s good; we couldn’t get rid of the cursed thing fast enough.” Luc turned to the staff, which simply glimmered in the light. “What do you mean?” She shrugged. “It gives me bad vibes.”

Luc shrugged. It didn’t seem to leave him with any bad impressions. Ildis began to give orders to the boys. She turned back to Luc when everything was done. “Now about the price of the horses Master Lukkis…” Luc smiled under his hood. A woman who knew what it was she was after; he chuckled to himself.