One Death Down

Happy Christmas Eve, or as the old people used to call it, Mōdraniht, which was a night where women were honored and perhaps even had a celebration or two to thank those around them for the consideration they had to push all those little love goblins out of their bellies and into the air.  Of course The Church banned it, because it was some old pagan hoohaw that they simply could not abide by, so we hear stories now about how a sacrifice or two were made at night to appease the Matres and Matronae, who were protective female deities.

So if you’re looking to have kids, say something nice to the Matres and Matronae, and who knows what will happen next.  Yeah?

Slowly this long scene is starting to take place, and trust me, it is a long scene.  But given that I’m averaging about five hundred words a night, it’s taking it’s time getting out.

Four days, two thousand words, you do the math.

Four days, two thousand words, you do the math.

There were no reasons for writing only six hundred and forty words beyond being tired as all hell and fighting to stay awake after I got home from having dinner.  It really was a whole lot of that, and even after I woke up it took a lot of effort to get out of the chair and want to sit and do something.

But I did get up and pen–can you say “pen” if you’re writing into a computer?–Helena’s first real brush, not with death, but with dying.  And it’s a good one.


(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)

She rubbed her hands. “Right: death. You wanted to know, so here you are. I’ve died twice. The first time happened back in June ‘96. I was part of a six-member group on an operation down around Cartagena, looking into rumors that the Deconstructors were using the same rail line as the Mina el Cerrejón to move goods from the north flanks of the Sierra Nevada De Santa Marta to Puerto Bolivar and back. We figured the transports were taking place near the main plant outside Albania, but we weren’t going to find out unless we did a little snooping around.

“I wasn’t in charge of the group; I wasn’t even the second in command. I was just one of the grunts put there to back up the women running the show. She wasn’t that bad, but this was the second major field op she’s commanded, and she acted at times like she had no bloody idea what to do when we were out and about. Needless to say, I wasn’t getting warm feelings in the pit of my stomach when we started venturing out into the wilds of Columbia.


The area Helena is talking about is here:

I love that Goggle Maps can take you anywhere!

I love that Goggle Maps can take you anywhere!

Mina el Cerrejón are those gray areas in the lower left of the picture, around Albania, Hatonuevo, and Papayal.  Those areas are huge open pit coal mines, operating in northeastern Columbia, right on the border with Valenzuela and far away from where most people live.  And the straight road that goes north all the way to the ocean?  That parallels a private rail line that is used to ship the coal to a huge port at Puerto Bolivar, which happens to be one of the largest ports in all of South America.

I actually researched this while writing.  I knew I was going to have her “hit the shite” somewhere in Columbia, and while they started in Cartagena, the ended up getting tagged about half way between that city and the view above.

And she remembers most everything–


“Day three, and we’re roaming about south of Río Ancho, and all day I’ve got the feeling we’re gonna hit the shite hard. I’m telling the leader what I think, but she’s telling me to piss off, ‘cause she feels everything is status quo. After the third warning I decide to go at the problem sideways and start hitting up the second-in-command, but just as about to tell her what I think—bam! Her head explodes, there’s blood all over me. She’s down, fifteen seconds later another member goes down, and it’s on.

“You know how this sort of thing goes, ‘cause you been in a fight like this. Spells are flying everywhere, and it’s us or them. Deconstructors are everywhere, and I take out three in about a minute.

I’m setting up to take out a forth, and suddenly there’s the bright flash . . .” Helena’s demeanor turned wistful as she sat back. “Next thing you know I’ve got lights in my eyes and people looking over me. Found out later that we managed to zap all the bad guys, but one other person got smashed in the process—and some bastard got in behind me and hit me hard enough to get their spell through my shields even though it killed them in the process. He hit me hard with an Electrify, which is why I saw the flash.

“The two survivors scoops up me and the last person killed, and jaunted us off to the regional HQ in Valencia, Venezuela, and got us right into the hospital. They were able to revive the other woman right away, but me?” She shook her head. “I was dead for six minutes, not that I knew. For me I just went from flash to flash: as far as I was concerned no time at all passed.”

Helena swiveled her chair back and forth a couple of time. “That was the first time; really, not that big of a thing. Second time I died . . .” She pressed her face against her fist. “That was a lot different.”


Really?  How different?


Just the way Helena’s mood changed up told Kerry that there was definitely a great deal more to this next story. “How so? What were you doing?”

“I was in charge of security for a large meeting of various Foundation supervisors.” She drew in a slow breath as she stared at the surface of her desk. “Things went—bad.”

Kerry kept his tone as soft as possible. “Did Deconstructors attack you?”

“You could say that—” She looked up. “The meeting was in the north tower of the World Trade Center.” Her snort was almost impossible to hear. “You need a date?”

He shook his head. “No.”


Of course Kerry doesn’t need a date, because he instinctively knows where this is going, and so do the readers, because it was just about a year ago–26 December, 2014, actually–that I wrote about how Helena was maimed during the attacks on the WTC.  And now, it seems, we’re going to discover that something a lot worse happened to her as well, because she’s here to talk about how she died–

And in talking about death, we’re going to learn a whole lot more.

Invisible Moments

The long weekend is winding down, and today I’ll have several things ongoing before packing up and returning to The Burg tomorrow.  It’s the penultimate day of NaNoWriMo, and there are either a lot of people doing a happy dance for making their fifty thousand, or a whole bunch of folks are thinking about hurtling their laptops against the nearest wall.

"No, it's all your fault I couldn't finish this crap!

“No, it’s your fault I couldn’t finish this crap on time!  Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!”

Either way, you have to give people credit for doing NaNo, because it isn’t easy.  But the really hard part comes after, once you’ve finished the work and it’s time to edit and publish said piece.  There’s where the real work comes in.

But enough of that–what about last night’s writing.  Well, I didn’t hit my NaNo goal, but then I don’t have to.  And I managed just over a thousand words last night as well as getting in just a little over seven hundred this morning.  I finished the scene–it’s like the last, just short of fifteen hundred words–and shows Annie and Kerry working out the new equipment they’re going to use, albeit under controlled conditions . . .


All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)

Kerry hovered one hundred fifty meters above the Tesla Science Hall trying to get a lock on their target. He’d been given the information from the ground: C Level girl, dark hair, slightly tan complexion, wearing a bright orange pullover, jeans, and a long, open sweater. And silver bangles on each wrist. He was trying to get the tablet to key in on the bangles, as they would be easy to identify—

The tablet’s enchantment picked up quantities of silver, and Kerry zoomed in of the person wearing the jewelry. He pulled out the display to form a hologram of the girl’s head and rotated it to get a good view of the face so her could run her against the school data base. He thought off a message to the person on the other end as soon as he got a hit. She’s Kamala Juraspurna, from the Blodeuwedd Coven. I’m surprised she’s heading to the science center.

Send me the downlink, my love. Annie’s reply came back so clear Kerry would have bet she was sitting next to him. I’ll check her schedule. He did just that and a few seconds later Annie had the answer. She has classes in the hall, but not until after lunch.

Think she’s meeting someone? He was about to lose the person as they entered the building and let Annie know.

I’ll find out. There was a subtle mental chuckle. Let me go inside and find out; I shouldn’t be there long.

I’ll be here. Kerry sat back on the saddle and enjoyed the view of The Pentagram. Not like I’m going anywhere else.


So they’re watching people in the school–but why all the italic speechifying?  Well, there’s a reason for that–


Once down in the lower level office Erywin began going over things they’d work with while out in the field. First were tablets that carried major enchantments that would allow them to scan people much like the equipment in the hospital, which then could use a special holographic display to look at parts of them you couldn’t see. They could also tie into the local computer systems where one was “observing” and gather additional information on a subject—though the only reason they were now accessing the Salem servers was due to a link supplied by Isis, who as Chief of Security for the school was aware the training was ongoing. They also had a limited ability to see through walls, but most importantly, it could scan for auras and determine if a person was Normal or Aware.

There were also the enchanted phones. They could mask your aura so you looked Normal, or even hide it if you bent light around you, which was something Helena and Erywin were testing on them now. The most important part of the enchantment was the ability to speak to the other person using just your thoughts: you could send off your messages and receive them back the same way. Annie and he had to work on that, because when they first started trying that out they were picking up every thought the other had, and there was a moment or two when they were both blushing over things they heard. After about twenty minutes they were able to use them without embarrassment.


Enchanted tablets and phones–why didn’t Harry Potter have this stuff?  Maybe an enchanted sniper rifle would have put an end to Voldie’s shit real fast, you know?  Remember, this was one of the reasons The Foundation wanted to get their hands on that magic stuff, so they could do things like this with technology–just like what they’ve done with Kerry’s broom.

What I remember what to know is, what were Annie and Kerry thinking that made them each blush?  Those kids . . .

But they’re using their magic, too, in particular one spell they’ve both mastered . . .


Two meters off the ground Kerry angled in towards the grove and concentrated on pushing the light bending field around him forward and to the sides. They’d discovered months ago that two or more people who were invisible through light bending could merge their fields and see each other. There was a risk extending the field because someone could walk through it and see the person inside, but here in this grove they’d be alone, and they would only keep their fields extended long enough for Annie to climb aboard his broom.

A couple of seconds after entering the grove Kerry found Annie standing to the side of one of the trees. Like him, she was wearing a heavy sweater and jeans, though her jeans tucked inside her boots while Kerry wore warm socks and tennis shoes. She adjusted her messenger bag as she positioned herself on the saddle behind Kerry then wrapped her arms around his waist. Let’s fly, darling.

You got it, Sweetie. Helena had told them to restrict themselves to thought speech while out, so they’d get used to working with the devices before heading out into public. Kerry lifted straight up into the air, carefully picking his way through the space between the trees. You find her?

Yes. She was meeting someone—a boy.


I did a quick scan on him from outside the room. He’s in our coven, a D Level. She rested her head against Kerry’s shoulders. I love flying like this with you.

Kerry laughed. Is that part of the report, or just an errant thought?

Annie chuckled. I am allowed a non-operational thought now and then. She looked over his shoulder. To the Witch House?

Of course. He turned to the northeast and slowly gained altitude. Gotta see if Helena and Erywin think we did okay, and find out what they want next.


The scary thing here is that now Annie and Kerry are good enough that they can stay hidden from others pretty well–it’s a given that Annie was in one of the school buildings and no one noticed her–so now they can sort of go wherever they like and unless you know what to look for, no one will see them.  I’m sure, however, that Isis has a number of things up her technowitch sleeve that might keep them from wandering into the Headmistress’ office and listening in on her private conversations–you know she has, because invisibility here is a thing, and Annie got busted trying to slip into the hospital with the same trick.

I wonder what sort of stuff Annie’s been showing Kerry on the sly though?  Time will tell.

The Ins and Outs of Guardianship

By now it’s pretty obvious that the stuff that started out Act Three thirty thousand words ago (yep, it’s that many, and a little more) is now coming home to roost.  And since Helena came over to give the kids the “good” news, chances are she got all her wishes granted.  It’s just like she’s Dorothy and she traveled to the Emerald City to get her wishes granted by The Wizards, only somewhere along the way she ditched those other three losers and probably realized that Glenda the Good Witch was the bitch who actually needed to get put down, so she smoked her, too.

After all, I’d bet any amount of money Helena has taken down a fair share of witches in her time, so notching Glenda wouldn’t be that big of a deal.  But I digress . . .

In fact, this situation with the Guardians is going to take up some of the bulk of Act Three–namely Parts Eleven and Twelve, and all the chapters therein.

It just looks like a lot--and trust me, it probably is.

It just looks like a lot–and trust me, it probably is.

The good thing is, once this creeping and peeping stuff is out of the way, there’s only two more parts, and those deal with the end of school and Annie and Kerry heading home and breaking up for the summer and not seeing each other and . . . hey, do I know how to end a novel on an upbeat note?

Trust me, it won’t be that bad.

But let’s get back to the spook stuff at hand.  I didn’t quite make my NaNo word count for the day yesterday–mostly because I spent about six hours on the road and I was pretty beat last night–but I managed to push it over a thousand words, and now I’m only forty-five hundred words from fifty, and that means that while I’m likely going to make my word count for this NaNo, it’s not going to be anything to write home about.  However, my word count starting from last year’s NaNo is about 340,000 words, so what’s another fifty, right?

What’s the story here, Cassie?  Well, Helena’s being a secretive witch, and she’s got herself and three other people locked up in her office in the lower levels of the Witch House, and she’s doing her spiel . . .


All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)

It was only after the room was sealed that Helena spoke to the other three members who’d gathered. “Before we get into the matters of why were are here and whether or not certain people will agree to do something . . .” She looked hard at Annie and Kerry as she walked past their chairs on her way to the chair behind the desk. “I have to make this clear: what is said in this room today stays in this room. If in five minutes time we decide not to move forward, neither of you—” She pointed across the desk at both children. “—are to ever admit this meeting happened, or that we ever gathered on this date and time.” She sat, glanced at Erywin sitting to her left, then turned back to the real reason she was here. “I hope I’m clear on this matter.”

Annie leaned on the left arm of her chair. “I understand completely, Professor.”

Kerry nodded slowly. “Same here.”


You were never here, this never happened . . . always a great way to start out a meeting.  What else is happening, Sunshine?


“Good. Now, according to protocol I’m permitted to give you some light specifics on why I’ve ordered you here, and the meaning behind my statement last night.” She sat back and forced herself to relax. “Difference factions of The Foundation pour over our student reports combing them for talent. In case you hadn’t thought about what happens outside these walls, talent is prized by The Foundation, and while there are a number of other schools in the system, this is the one they look to the most, because only those whom we believe will become the best students in are allowed through Founder’s Gate.

“The one organization that examines us the closest is the Guardians. The reasons are simple: not only do we produce the best witches, but we also produce the best sorceresses—and being a great sorceress is a must if you want to become a Guardian. Knowing sorcery—in particular, knowing Morte spells—is the main requirement for being a Guardian, because we’re the ones walking in the shadows dealing with nefarious shit that we hope never becomes known to the Normals. And I say ‘we’ because I’m still a Guardian with a field operative rating—and I’ve handled my fair share of nefarious shit over the last two decades.

“The Guardians not only cherry pick our students records, but if they find someone they like, they contact the people in charge and ask for additional information on them, always in the form of a detailed report. If they like what they see there, then they take the step of requesting access to the student for a few days—usually no more than that—and they take them out into the field to see how they operate in either a test environment, or on an actually field operation.”

Helena set her elbows on the arms of her chair and leaned forward. “That’s why you’re here. The Guardians saw the reports on you and wanted additional information. They were given that information a few weeks ago, and now they want to see what you can do.” Once again she glanced at Erywin before looking back at Annie and Kerry. “They don’t want to test you; they want to send you on a field operation.”


You get too good in this world and you end up getting to play Secret Witch.  Aren’t they lucky?

She lays out all the stuff that she pretty much already laid out for Gabriel and Mathilde, and though she never mentions this to the kids.  She also lets them know that one of the reasons Erywin is her second is because she knows people–she’s a counselor and the school’s LGBT adviser–and it’s her job to figure out if the kids are, as Helena puts it, “mature enough to handle something like this.”  Which was a concern she brought up once, but not to Annie and Kerry.

Finally we get to the last bit, the thing that determines where we go with this . . .


Helena stood and came around to the other side of the desk. She leaned against the edge directly in front of Annie and Kerry. “Now we get to the important part: your participation. And here’s where it gets tricky, kids, because no matter what I’ve said up to this about what I’ve done to ensure that this mission won’t screw you right into the ground, nothing happens if one or you both invoke your Right of Refusal.”

As she expected Annie said nothing, while Kerry asked the question. “What’s that?”

“It’s simple. You are both minors, and remain so until you’re eighteen, the Age of Majority. Now, under extraordinary circumstances The Foundation can conscript sixteen and seventeen year olds for operations, but that in no way affects you. You’re twelve and eleven, and about the only way they could get you out into the field would be to kidnap you and make you do it against your will.” She didn’t tell them she suspected that could happen if the wrong people got desperate . . .

“That means you have Right of Refusal, and that means if you say ‘no’, then you’re finished, your not involved, there’s the door, see you around, and remember not to tell anyone you were ever here. If, on the other hand, you say ‘yes’, then you sign non-disclosure forms, we pull out the data, and we start putting the operation together.” She looked from Annie to Kerry before focusing on a point between them. “So what’s it going to be? Are you in, or are you out?”


And that’s where I ended it, because I know what they’re going to say, and you’re likely know what they’re going to say as well, otherwise I’d find myself writing something else.  And as I mentioned, I was tired, so I didn’t need to write the next part–

At least not last night.

It’s a new day, though.  Looks like I have a few thousand words to work out today.



NaNo Word Count, 11/17:  1,232

NaNo Total Word Count:  45,460

On Both Sides Now

Sunday saw me doing a lot around the house, including writing out a letter by hand?  What is this wizardry, you ask?  Don’t ask.  Just know that I did.

At least there wasn’t any depressed.  I seem to have worked my way out of that–for now.  It may come back soon, it may not.  For now things are good, so I’m not going to dwell on that:  I got a novel to write.  And probably some hate to generate.

Hate, you say?  Yeah.  Because the scene I completed last night sees a little dealing going on behind the curtain–or in the tunnels, if you’d like.  See, after Mister Gabriel got is ass handed to him and was shown the door, he’s taking his time leaving, strolling along inside the Pentagram Walls.  He’s not a happy man, but he knows this was just his opening salvo.  And then this happens . . .


All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)

He made his way around Ceridwen Tower and headed straight for the door leading out to Founder’s Gate. He picked up the pace, seeing as how he’d be out of the wall and out under the arch, and from there it was a fast jaunt to the Main Gate before heading back to headquarters—


He turned around and faced the stairway that led to the lower lever below the wall. Helena was standing a few step below the level of the floor. She walked up three steps and regarded him silently.

“I see . . .” He held his hands to his said, anticipating trouble. “Mathilde send you to waylay me?”

A soft chuckle emerged from the stairwell. “If I was going to waylay you, your ass would have been waylaid.” She cocked a finger at the Guardian representative. “We need to talk. Come.”

He followed her down into the passage that made up the lower level of the Pentagram Wall. “Aren’t you worried we’ll be interrupted?”

“By students? No. They normally don’t come this way, so we’re good for a while.” Helena sighed. “Let us talk about what’s coming . . . you’re going to have the request sent in tomorrow, yeah?”

“Either tomorrow or the day after.” Gabriel shrugged. “We’ll likely do a postmortem tomorrow morning—”

“But the request is going out.”


“And we know where this is going.” Helena looked around the tunnel. “Mathilde will ask for my advice, and it’s likely she’ll reject the request.”

“We’ve already anticipated that.” Gabriel didn’t take his eyes off Helena; he didn’t like being alone with here, and certainly didn’t trust her. “We’ll then go to the Educational Council and request arbitration on the request.”

“You’ll ask for it to be expedited?”

“Of course.”

“And I’m going to make a prediction—” She focused on Gabriel. “The adjudicator will find in the Guardians’ favor. Why not? You’re only asking for reports.”

“That’s how we see this playing out.” Gabriel relaxed slightly; though he still watched the sorceress closely. “I don’t see how the adjudicator would find it any other way.”


If there’s one thing Helena loves to do, it’s find someone and pull them off to a dark, secluded area to have a chat.  I know you’re asking yourself “why?”–well, some are, I know that, the others are waiting for Thanksgiving–and that will be answered below.

Helena does know things the headmistress doesn’t; after all, she still is a Guardian even if she is an instructor.  She knows how they think and work and approach a problem.  She also knows that she’s much better at pressuring people than this loser–


“Which means you have something in mind.” She moved a little closer to Gabriel. “Which means you’re on a time table. Which means someone’s gotta analyze the data to determine if Annie and Kerry will fit the mission profile. Which means it’s a field op.” She was within half a meter of Gabriel. “I’ve done this a lot longer than you; I know how this game is played.” She slowly tapped her index finger against her pursed lips. “Since you’re not pointing out the flaws in my logic, I’d suggest you drop the theatrics and we discuss this matter honestly.”

He looked away for a few seconds, gathering his thought. “It’s a field operation; I haven’t seen the data yet, but I’m told that if the rumors about these two are correct, they fit the personal profile. There is a time table, which is why the reports are needed within the next month.”

“Hence the need to try and intimidate Mathilde tonight—which was, by the way, stupid.”

“I’ve figure that out.”

Helena nodded slowly. “There is one thing that San Francisco is forgetting here . . .”

Gabriel was about to say “no”, but thought better. “And that is?”

She moved to within centimeters of Gabriel. “Me.” She backed away, her hands in the pockets of her leather coat. “Besides having my field operator’s rating, I still know a lot of people in a lot of different locations: San Francisco, London, Amsterdam, and Paris.” She smirked. “Most of them still like me, too.

“I have three demands I want concerning your upcoming op, and if they aren’t met—” She removed her mobile from the coat. “I will begin calling these people I know. I will call them when they are eating, when they are trying to meet with people, and at inopportune moments when they’re suppose to be sleeping.” She twisted the phone back and forth. “I will call and keep calling, and I will do everything I can to turn your time table into a parade of shit.” She slipped the mobile back into her coat.

So we more straight from the intimidation to the blackmail.  She does know this game and how it’s played, and now she lays out her demands.


Having found himself out-dueled once tonight, he wasn’t about to let it happen again. “What do you want?”

Helena began speaking without hesitation. “First, I want in. I want to see the data, the planing, the whole thing. I want to see what the planning committee is seeing.”

“That’s impossible.”

Helena ignored the statement. “Two: these two are gonna need a handler in the field, and that handler will have a second. I’ll going to be their handler, and I’ll choose my own second. And I’ll run this op wherever you put it down.”

Gabriel chuckled. “You may still have your field operative rating, but you’ve never worked with children in—”

Helena cut him off with a swipe of her arm. “Who the fuck do you think has spent the last five months with those two?” She lowered her voice, hoping no one had heard them. “I know them, know how they act, know how they’ll react. You don’t: no one in San Francisco does.”

He said nothing, because her last statement made far too much sense. “And your last demand?”

“I have full veto power all the way down the line. If I don’t like the operation as laid out, I kill it. If I don’t like the updates, I kill it. If I don’t like your training plan, I don’t like the equipment, I don’t like the support you’re sending us, I kill it.” She removed her other hand from her coat pocket and once again crossed her arms. “And just like any other handler, I have final veto power in the field. The first moment I feel things going sideways, I kill everything and bring them home.”


Her point about working with the children is valid:  she’s instructed them, particularly Annie.  We know she’s shown Annie things in the time leading up to Yule, and in the month since everyone’s come back to school she’s probably shown Annie a few more things.  Maybe she’s shown Kerry a few things, too.  No matter what, she does know how they’ll act–something a babysitter from San Fran wouldn’t know.

The question still remains, “Why?”  And that’s what Gabriel asks:


“I have one question, however—” Gabriel scanned the tunnel for visitors before asking. “Why are you going out of your way to help us with something you obviously don’t like.”

Helena pulled up next to Gabriel until they were only centimeters apart. Her tone was that of a low, harsh whisper. “Annie and Kerry may be extraordinary kids, but they are kids. Annie’s twelve and Kerry eleven, and no matter how bad ass their Crafting may be, no matter how mature some people may think they act, they are still immature tween kids—

“I know SOP and how they operate, and them being minors doesn’t matter: you will find a way to get them out in the field, you will find a way to see how they operate.” She jabbed a finger into Gabriel’s chest. “When that happens, I want to make certain they don’t come back to the school in fucking body bags.”


A desire not to see your students come home dead is a powerful one, and one can imaging that Helena has seen her share of people die on field operations.  Like she said, she’s played this game for a while, and she’s probably had to bring back of few of her own people tagged and bagged.

Helena’s a realist:  she knows the people involved, she’s worked with them, and she knows if the Guardians are coming for a couple of A Levels who’ve been at the school for six months, they’ll come and come and keep coming until they get their way.  She knows she can fight it, but probably the best she’ll do is a delaying action–

Which means the next best thing is to try and minimize damage.  And like it or not she’s aware that the Guardians probably won’t give as much of a shit about the kid’s well being as she would, so . . . time to join the party.

What happens next?  You’ll see in the next scene.  After that, I look ahead to the next part and three chapters, and I can tell you the first two are back on the kids, with the first one a mix of Annie and Kerry, the second is mostly him, and the last . . . In Dreams is gonna be a big chapter–

I'm not showing you anything, but you can probably figure it out.

I’m not showing you anything, but you can probably figure it out.

And only four more parts after that.

The end really is near.


NaNo Word Count, 11/9:  1,809

NaNo Total Word Count:  18,287