She curled in the corner of the stone cell, damp cold seeping through dirty jeans and a scuffed leather jacket that looked extra worse for the wear.
The palm pistol she clasped in her hands was real enough. When she woke, she discovered that it had still been tucked into the back of her jeans. The light-deflecting charm she set back in Calverton to shield it from sight should have worn off the first time she lost consciousness. While the fact that her mysterious captors hadn’t searched her thoroughly should speak volumes about their intelligence, in reality, it scared Syri more that they probably had searched her but didn’t view the gun as either a threat or a valuable to be taken from her. It was worrying that they would remove her knives but not that.
Despite the tendrils’ reptilian ap
