Tremble in the Dark: A Gwen Farris Novel Read Free Page A

wasn't for that
however, though she still needed to do that, because... awesome . It took
work to stay good and to get better. Everyone said that. So she'd been trying
to keep her hand in daily. Everyone else kept looking at her funny about it,
except the Westmorlands, who seemed to think she was one of the only non-lazy
regular people on the planet.
    She had the time though. Even after she
packed. Gwen got up and started to do that without comment, which had Bethany
leave, presumably to do the same, once she caught on. Nobody said goodbye here.
It had taken her over half a year to learn why that was too. Any word could
become a spell, if a powerful person said it with the right amount of focus or intent,
so the superstition was that if you said goodbye, you may never see a person
again. Like a curse.
    So when you were going, you just walked
away, without saying anything.
    Her single canvas pack that looked like
it was old army surplus, and the more normal clothing bag, were both packed
inside about ten minutes. Then she went over what weapons to take. She sort of
wanted to pack along her magical Combat armor, but didn't bother to think about
that for more than a few seconds. Even if they could use magic, the stuff was a
pain to lug around on a journey. If magic went out, which she was assuming
would be the case, given the reports, then it would just be a hundred pounds of
metal or more. She didn't know for certain how much hers weighed, but it was
nearly impossible for her to carry any distance alone. She might make a mile or
two, if she had to, dragging it behind her. That wouldn't work for their
mission, and they sure as heck wouldn't leave it, if they had to leave on foot.
So it needed to stay in the little room that the Vernors had provided them for
it.
    She decided she would take her little
reddish PC, as well as a Crin and several knives. She kind of wished she had a
real gun too. They worked in this world, they'd just never really been a thing .
Why would anyone bother, when the magical versions worked and were more
familiar to them? She'd seen some, brought in by some very bad people, from
another world, but those were all off with the royal examiners, or whatever
they called them.
    The image that popped to mind was of a
giant warehouse that was filled with identical crates that all said top secret on the side. Then, most of her idea about reality had been formed by television,
and the rest by movies. Well, with the occasional attack thrown in. That, she
realized, probably wasn't the healthiest way to grow up.
    Tucking the last of her knives into the
pack, she found Mrs. Vernor standing in the doorway, her hands in front of her,
clasped a bit nervously.
    "Dear, I was just going to sit down
to tea, would you and Bethany like some, do you think?" It was hard to
tell if the woman had something important to discuss, or simply wanted to be
polite. She was so good at what she did, social things, that it might be either
one, and the only way to find out would be to go and see. It was the accent
that did it, Gwen knew. Everyone sounded slightly British to her here. At least
in the Western Kingdom.
    Smiling, but only a little, to show she
was pleased, she nodded.
    "That sounds great. Beth and I have
to be off in the morning. To investigate those murders that have been in the
papers? The ones on the trains?" It wasn't like the case hadn't been
covered. After all, who killed people on a moving train? That was weird and that ,
naturally, meant it was newsworthy. Just like in her world. Unusual things were
news. Always.
    "Oh? That sounds worrisome.
Couldn't they send someone else? I can have Robert put in a word, perhaps, with
some of his contacts? Or you could speak to King Ferdinand? He's rather fond of
you." She said it very genuinely, which nearly made Gwen tear up. In her
entire life she'd only known one or two people that actually cared about
her like that. All of them were here too.
    More than just two, she