She doesn’t take her eyes off the sickly child. The girl might look frail and forlorn, but she had just crawled out of a mirror and sung a creepy song about dying. She can hear Adam behind her, and the tiny clinks that she recognizes as lockpicks, and hopes that he’ll be able to use his skills to get them out. The girl continues to stare at her, blind gaze unblinking as her head slowly begins to tilt to the side, and Rexanna represses a shudder as the child looks at her as if she were a curious insect the girl has caught. When her question brings only silence Rexanna raises her hands slowly and keeps her voice quiet. “We’re sorry for disturbing you. We’ll leave now without touching anything else.” It’s an easy promise to keep for the Penumbra, but she doesn’t know what Adam might have in his pockets from earlier.
Adam times his success perfectly and Rexanna would breathe a sigh of relief if she still needed to breathe. Instead she begins to back up slowly as he jokes and makes his escape, reaching blindly for the doorknob to pull it shut behind her as she leaves the room.
The knob is dripping wet and cold as ice, but she can only vaguely feel the chill as she gently pulls it closed and slips out and away from the advancing child’s inexorable steps. Her hand lingers on the lock long enough to use her transmutation magic on it to seal the metal shut before she hurries after Adam, catching up to him and tossing him a flash of a sharp-toothed grin. “Nice work on the lock.” She means it, too. Part of her feels a little bad about leaving the child behind, but that's no normal girl, and she hasn’t survived this long by being naïve or overly trusting.
Not in a long, long time at least.
Adam times his success perfectly and Rexanna would breathe a sigh of relief if she still needed to breathe. Instead she begins to back up slowly as he jokes and makes his escape, reaching blindly for the doorknob to pull it shut behind her as she leaves the room.
The knob is dripping wet and cold as ice, but she can only vaguely feel the chill as she gently pulls it closed and slips out and away from the advancing child’s inexorable steps. Her hand lingers on the lock long enough to use her transmutation magic on it to seal the metal shut before she hurries after Adam, catching up to him and tossing him a flash of a sharp-toothed grin. “Nice work on the lock.” She means it, too. Part of her feels a little bad about leaving the child behind, but that's no normal girl, and she hasn’t survived this long by being naïve or overly trusting.
Not in a long, long time at least.
