Normally, on Fridays, I post a subscriber-exclusive… um, post to my Patreon page. However, since I’m doing 30 days of writing, I’ve decided that I’ll just be posting the Friday… um, posts on all my various platforms, including making them free for everyone over on Patreon.
© J.B. Norman — Published by Emona Literary Services™
The Lyte Brigade’s latest adventure has led them to a room that they unanimously agree is trapped
“So, like,” Pela asks, clutching her crossbow close as she eyes the every corner of the room. “Those suits of armour are going to come to life, right?”
Falcata shrugs her broad, muscular shoulders.
“If they do, I shall fight them,” the Amazon promises.
“That does seem like the obvious outcome,” Tancred notes, turning in a slow circle.
And then he frowns.
“Unless, of course, that’s what they want us to think.”
Pela blinks. “Who’s they?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” the knight admits. “The armour? Whoever set up this confounded room?”
His eyes go wide with realisation.
“You know, I bet that, whoever they are, this is exactly what they want us to think. Oh, blast it, we’re playing right into they’re hands!”
Pela nods. “Right. We let our guard down. And then the armour comes to life and tries to kill us.”
“Maybe,” Nolan offers. “There is no trap? And whoever made this room just really liked collecting old suits of armour?”
“Now that is exactly what they want us to think!” Tancred declares.
“Who is they?” Pela cries.
“Oh, Nolan,” Amara sighs. “If Cousin Egeria were here, I do believe she would be blessing your heart.”
“Well, excuse me for seeing the best in people,” Nolan mutters.
“I think I’m beginning to understand this room,” Amara says. “Clearly, it is designed to drive anyone who enters to madness.”
Pela nods again. “Right. And then the armour comes to life and tries to kill us!”
“How fiendishly, diabolically clever,” Tancred mutters.
“Regardless,” Falcata speaks up. “I am ready to fight them off.”
“And…” Amara’s voice trails off.
She turns towards Matilda.
“Where in the world did you get that apple?”
Holding an apple that has apparently materialised out of nowhere, Matilda shrugs. And as the rest of the Lyte Brigade contemplates their surroundings, she continues to eat her apple.
Still holding her mysterious apple, Matilda speaks up.
“Honestly, this doesn’t take a genius,” she mutters. “Everybody go stand in that corner.”
She points to the room’s furthest corner.
“Wait. Are we in trouble, Miss Matilda?” Tancred asks.
“Just go. And maybe cover your ears, or something.”
“Uh oh,” Nolan mutters. He knows his sister well enough to know where this is going.
Once the others are as close to being out of range as possible in the confines of the room, Matilda flings a fireball at the corner of the room. The fireball roars, the heat and the impact wash over the room. The force sends the pieces of the suits of armour clattering to the floor, filling the room with a metallic cacophony.
Scorched, singed, and coughing, the others stare at Matilda with dropped jaws.
“What? It’s not like the armour can come to life now.”
“Guys,” Pela asks nervously, frantically feeling around her face. “Do I still have my eyebrows?”
“Yeah,” Matilda answers. “You’re good. Might want to wash all the ash off your face, though.”
She clears her throat.
“Sorry about by the way, but you guys were going to drive me crazy before the room did.”
And then she goes back to her apple.
“But where did she get it?” Amara mutters.
Now, I’m not really trying to do anything with this one, but I feel like ‘character conveniently produces food and/or object from nowhere’ is kind of funny…
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