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The Month of Wilt - 2

As someone actually standing in that fresh air I can assure you it is overrated. I stamped my boots and half bent over pulling my arms in tight to my chest and trying to ignore the howling wind that whipped around me. Looking down I saw Bloods red pointed boots stroll casually past me, both they and their owner seemingly immune to the cold.

With a contemptuous huff I was forced to settle for pulling my cloak tight around me and fidgeting with the straps of my mask to lift the icy stone off my skin. There wasn't even a sister in the sky that night and the star speckled darkness above me seemed to be radiating coldness that frosted on the metal of the rooftop.

“How long until you’re done?” I called over my shoulder, still busy staring up at the sky and thinking longingly about our hideouts roaring fire.

“Not long,” said the reassuring and cheerfully inaccurate voice of Blood, “hey if you want something to do one of them had this on him.” A large leather satchel landed in front of me with a thump. “Might be something valuable in it.”

I fumbled the satchel open with freezing fingers and found it was full of hundreds of small flyers. Each was black card some thirty centimetres long and ten wide and covered in drawings of roses, angels and swords all done in deep red ink.

“And if it turns out it's useless we can just burn it which should at least stop your teeth from chattering.” Blood continued conversationally to a background of twanging noises. I gritted my teeth both to stop the little hellion from laughing at me and also because the idea of burning anything with writing on it had always seemed almost sacrilegious to me. I am not the most religious person (I was somewhat put off by the first commandment of Koth “Burn all magic users then scoop their ashes together and burn them again”) but you’ve still got to have standards.

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So to the accompaniment of clattering, clanging and sotto voce cursing behind me I drew out one of the tiny cards and began to read.

The Great and Terrible Conjunction is upon us!

All who walk the true Shadowed path shall be rewarded!

The Power of the old wanes as our waxes!

Come Brothers and Sisters together we shall shape the world!”

I was already grinning at the crude prose, random capitals and overbearing tone but the next line was what sent me over the edge.

Meeting at the Duke Lanin’s manor on proud street, if lost ask at Mrs. Main’s pie shop for directions.

Knock three times and ask for the king of the rabbit people.

Giggling to myself and flipping the flyer over and saw a few more lines of awfully spewed verbiage on the back. I honestly don't remember what it was, something about black stars and new worlds and lots to do with shadows nothing interesting apart from the last line

And with the spilled blood of the commoner we shall have true power!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I read the line twice to be sure then I narrowed my eyes.

“Blood.”

“Yeah Bright?”

“We’ve got our next target.”

“Great... gimme a sec though.”

“Oh honestly aren’t you done yet?” I asked, turning around.

“Now I am!” crows Blood triumphantly stepping back from her masterpiece. The entire gang we had so recently defeated was hung upside down by long ropes, stripped to their small clothes and covered in blue paint that Blood had assured me was nearly impossible to wash off.

She looked up at the hanging figures and, sighing dramatically, ran a finger across her porcelain cheek “Art touches the soul so deeply no?” She said with an audible smile, I threw the flyer at her.

Seconds later the roof was empty apart from a dozen unconscious painted gangsters, some empty paint cans and a burning satchel[37].