SpellCasting

Havermouth, The Present

It was one thing to ride a Unimog through town, and another to travel on one long distance for over an hour, Aislen thought grimly. She was certain that most of her bones had been shaken loose and that when she eventually did stand up, she’d collapse in a jumble of limbs like in a cartoon. She’d been trying to work on another Secret Keeper post, working in a notebook that she’d stolen from one of the desks in the bunker, but her handwriting was so shaky that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to read it afterwards.

She also wasn’t sure if she was being optimistic in it’s message.

However, if she wasn’t writing, then she had to focus on what was happening around her, where they were going, and the fact that they had to be getting close, and there still was no sign of Talen. Was he okay? She would know, wouldn’t she? She asked herself. If something had happened to him, she was sure that she would feel it somehow, like a wound to her heart.

“He’s fine,” she said out lo