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ROTG - The Legend of Cold and Dark ch6A weary group was trudging laboriously up the hill. They were all dirty, exhausted, and battered, but there was not a face among them that didn’t carry the glow of hard-earned victory.
They had done it. It was really only just now sinking in, as they felt the wind on their faces and saw the rising sun peek through the trees. They had gone down into the maw of darkness itself, faced Pitch Black in his own territory, and come out the victors.
The yetis and the rest of Toothiana’s faeries met them at the edge of the forest, the yetis grunting and fussing over their worn and torn appearance, while the faeries mobbed their ‘mommy’ and some even Jack, and the elves jingled merrily underfoot.
Jack especially was practically passed from one yeti to another, all of them expressing their dismay over his appearance. Meanwhile, the faeries were chirping and trying to pick the remains of nightmare sand from his hair, one tiny handful at a time. The prince surrendered to the
ROTG - The Legend of Cold and Dark ch5One of the faeries chirruped urgently, catching Toothiana’s attention.
“Everyone , hide!” she hissed sharply.
The three guardians and their few remaining companions quickly darted into various side tunnels and other nooks and crannies of the shadowed passage, just as the muffled footsteps from ahead rounded the corner. They all flattened themselves deeper into their hiding places when they recognized the figure at the front of the group.
The Nightmare King himself was leading what appeared to be a small procession of nightmares through the halls, and beside him…
The pooka felt his hackles rise. “Jack…”
The playful spirit looked barely a shadow of himself. He appeared entirely unconcerned of the half a dozen nightmares that were following close behind him. His face was perfectly blank, and marble-white against his black clothes. His hand was resting lightly on the shadow lord’s bent arm, like a noble lady being led to a state dinner.
Inspector Wolf The old lady was dead. I could smell it before I even got into the house. The whole place reeked of adrenaline, sweat, fear, copper and steel. He’d dropped her right in her living room. Chopped and chopped until she stopped moving. But I could tell I was getting close. This had been done in a hurry, and the killer didn’t have the time to clean up after himself like he usually did.
Across the room, the phone rang. The shrill sound set my teeth to grinding, but I ignored it. Instead I followed the killer’s bloody footprints into the back bedroom. He’d climbed out the window. If I hurried, I could catch up to him and end this disgusting spree he was on.
Then the answering machine kicked in. “Hi, Gramma! It’s Red. Sorry I’m running late. I kind of lost track of time. But don’t worry. I packed the picnic and I’m heading out the door right now. Love you.”
She’d been expec
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