Lucky Rabbit

Pandy had already broken one window, and she expected that someone would soon poke their head out of it to see where the interloper was. She’d really like to be inside the bedroom by the time that happened. There was only so much even a truly hideous statue could do to draw attention away from a blood-soaked bunny barely balanced fifteen feet above ground.

The exact quality of Edgar’s vision was never really addressed in Gacha Love; he was just the Glasses-Wearing, Nerdy Love Interest. It couldn’t be too bad, though, because he’d managed to get to his knees, and was using the wall to inch himself to a standing position, his chocolatey gaze all but burning holes into Pandy from the other side of the glass.

Once he was upright, he paused, glancing back toward Dorian, then to the door, which now stood open. Without so much as a single shred of embarrassment or concern for his dignity, he used his lips, tongue, and teeth to flip the latch on the window, unlocking it. Turning his back to Pandy, he applied purplish, swollen fingers to the handle at the bottom of the window and pushed it up just enough for her to get her claws beneath the bottom edge.

That was all it took. Once again Pandy braced her back paws on a windowsill and hauled upward. This window opened easily, and she cursed herself for not realizing Thaniel’s would probably be locked. To be fair, the boy practically never closed the window during their time here, so she’d had no idea locking it was even an option.

All she needed was enough room to slip her head through, and then Pandy was inside, on the floor and out of easy line of sight from outside or the doorway. Edgar crouched beside her, holding out his hands as he murmured, “I’m going to assume you’re Lady Eurydice, and not simply a handy hare, so please remove my bonds, if you would. Be careful. I believe they’re the same as the ones the Knights use, which means there’s Aetherbane worked into them.”

That explained why he wasn’t using his magic. She’d guessed there must be some way of preventing people from just casting spells or using their elementals to escape from custody, and Bryan Conroy had even said he simply ‘tore through the Aetherbane’ that was meant to keep him in, but this seemed cruel and unusual to Pandy. Edgar’s poor hands definitely weren’t getting proper bloodflow, and a little more time spent like this might cause serious damage.

Raised voices were coming from the direction of Thaniel’s room now, and Edgar grimaced, straightening. “Your pardon, my lady,” he said, polite as ever, and used his sausage-fingers to push the window closed again. He didn’t bother with the latch this time, probably hoping that no one would check as long as the window was shut. Then he laid back down on the bed and closed his eyes just before a tall man in the skin-tight black Shadow Exchange getup poked his head into the room and looked around.

Fortunately, Pandy was hidden from view, but she scurried beneath the bed, then hopped up into the bedframe itself. It was fortunate that it was a fancy, delicate frame that fit over a sturdier inner one, because the man came around and looked out of the window before bending and peering beneath the bed. Pandy held completely still, and a glance was enough to assure the man that no human-sized figure huddled there, so he straightened again, calling, “Nothing here. Must’ve gotten frightened and run off. Probably hurt, too. You saw the blood.”

“I don’t like it,” came another voice. “It’s too much of a coincidence that some locals would come poking around just now.”

“You saw that room downstairs. Someone has been squatting here,” the first person said impatiently. “Acting like they owned the place. These two’re the only law-abiding types who know anything’s going on. Squatters and thieves aren’t exactly going to report a break-in at the place they already broke into.”

“These two are two too many already,” said the second voice. “I still think we should just kill them. It’d be a start on bringing down the cursed nobles.”

“Lord Shadow said he had a use for ‘em,” came the disinterested reply. “Though I don’t know if the big one’s going to make it if we have to wait much longer. You hit him too hard.”

“I hit him just right,” said voice two with a growl. “He about broke my arm, and I think he did crack a rib. That’s with his hands tied. Fights like a back alley brawler, that one.”

Good job, Dorian! Pandy was somewhat astonished at her own thought, but she couldn’t help but feel that in this particular case, her least-favorite love interest had outdone her favorite. The Shadows just needed to shut up and leave so she could heal both boys and free their hands. Then they could escape through the window and meet up with Captain Reedsley’s soldiers, allowing Pandy and Augustus to focus on finding and freeing Lian and Bryan.

“Want to switch with me?” First Voice asked hopefully. “I’m tired of being stuck in here with them. I know they’re out, but I feel like the Ashford boy is glaring holes in me whenever I look away.”

So they did know who they had. Was that good or bad? Two gave a nasty laugh and said, “You did break his glasses and tie him up. He probably doesn’t like you much.” Raising his voice slightly, he added, “We can find out if he’s just pretending to be unconscious. Lord Shadow said he needed them alive, not intact.”

Oh, no, that wasn’t good. Pandy needed to do something, and fast, but if she made too much noise, everyone else in the house would come running, which was risky with Edgar and Dorian bound and in poor condition. Footsteps moved toward the bed, and she could imagine Edgar tensing as he prepared for whatever Two had in mind. What could Pandy do that would take out both men quickly and, hopefully, silently? She only had one idea, so she thought, <Minor Heal, Dorian.>

Minor Heal successful.

Healed Dorian Griffin for 20 HP.

Oof. A full twenty. Since the first heal hadn’t produced either the reaction she hoped for or a sudden influx of Dark mages or elementals in search of whatever had produced the surge of magic, Pandy tried again, and threw a heal in for Edgar while she was at it. Honestly, she hadn’t even been certain her spell would work while they were wearing the anti-magic shackles, but it made sense that their captors would want to be able to use magic on them, just not be magicked in return.

Minor Heal successful.

Healed Dorian Griffin for 16 HP.

Minor Heal successful.

Healed Edgar Ashford for 12 HP.

This time, the bed shifted, creaked, and Dorian came up with a roar. One and Two sounded remarkably similar when they were thrown across the room by a charging teenager larger than most full-grown men, causing Pandy to lose track of who was who. The process definitely wasn’t as quiet as Pandy had been hoping for, but the sounds should be within a rather horrible range of ‘normal’ given that the men had assumed no one else would come to investigate if they beat up the two teenagers. The men had admitted they weren’t supposed to kill Dorian or Edgar, so the boy should be relatively safe and keep the Shadows busy while Pandy enacted the second part of her plan.

Dropping to the ground from her perch clinging to part of the inner frame of the bed, Pandy scampered out and hopped up next to Edgar. Desperately hoping she wasn’t about to fry the boy’s magic, even temporarily, Pandy used a claw to Scratch at the wide shackles on his wrists.

It turned out that the part touching his skin was made of something remarkably like plastic – flexible but strong enough not to be broken easily. Then there was a layer of what she easily identified as Aetherbane, over which lay a thin veneer of some reddish metal. At first, the structure only bent under her claw, but then, as if she’d exceeded its Durability Rating, the cuffs separated into their disparate layers and shattered.

Edgar was obviously not interested in escaping quietly to freedom. Really, Pandy should have expected that. Even though he had the most elegant vibe of the four love interests, he was also the first to take things to Defcon Five. Or was it Defcon One? Whichever one meant he was perfectly willing to drop fiery balls from space on his enemies at the drop of a hat.

By the time Pandy managed to free herself from the tangled blankets, where she’d been thrown when Edgar rolled out like an avenging angel, Lian’s room was on fire. It wasn’t a particularly large blaze, especially considering the conflagrations that regularly erupted as a result of Scorching Sonata in the latter half of Gacha Love, but any amount of burning furniture was too much when you were trapped in said room.

Edgar stood in the middle of it, his arms stretched wide as the breeze caused by the heat of the flames tugged at his hair. For the first time, Pandy realized he had a streak of blood running from the bridge of his nose, where his glasses must have cut him when they broke. The crusty stain only accentuated the whiteness of his teeth as he grinned.

“Edgar!” Dorian shouted, this time using his shoulder to bump into his friend, distracting him from his pyromaniacal trance. There were two man-shaped lumps on the ground, and Dorian’s foot rested on the back of one, while the other groaned and clutched at his chest.

Edgar blinked, glanced around, and Pandy would have sworn he blushed. Just a little. She couldn’t even properly appreciate it however, because she needed someone to put out the flames that were licking up Lian’s curtains, and it didn’t seem likely that that person was going to be Edgar.

She launched herself toward Dorian, who first started to punch her out of the air, then somehow managed to process the fact that a filthy white rabbit flying at him might be an okay thing. Pandy was beginning to get the feeling she might have misjudged him a bit. His large hands caught her, and she twisted in his grasp until she could get a few claws under the wide bracelet on his wrists. <Scratch!>

Scratch successful.

This time she knew what to expect and managed to avoid taking a faceful of sharp, anti-magic shrapnel. Dorian gasped in relief as his hands came apart, and he gave her a surprisingly rakish grin before putting her on his shoulder. Then he bent down and started to reach for the black-handled knife poking out of a sheath at the gasping Shadow’s waist.

Pandy let herself fall, spinning as she did in order to drop-kick the hilt just before Dorian’s fingers touched it. As usual, she got a message saying something had tried to poison her and failed, but she ignored it. The important thing was that Dorian hadn’t touched it, which meant she didn’t have to spend some ridiculously large portion of her Mana keeping him from dying. She reassessed her thought that he might be more intelligent than she’d given him credit for, decided that she would re-reassess later, and glared up at the boy.

<No touching! Poison!> she thought at him as hard as she could. He jerked back, but shook his head like he had water in his ears, rather than responding.

Edgar said, “I’ve heard a rumor that some of the Shadow Exchange’s operatives poison even the hilts of their knives. Perhaps it’s best to find another weapon.”

A fairly significant amount of smoke had gathered in the room by now – whatever the mattress was made of seemed to be at least mildly fire resistant, but also smoked and smelled like a damp pile of leaves – and Dorian coughed as he grabbed the desk chair, which was only slightly charred. He broke off the chair’s leg, forming a rough wooden club, which rapidly began to glitter as ice covered it.

He stuck the icy club into the base of the nearest blaze. It shrank back, hissing and popping angrily. Using his Ice to fight the fire wasn’t a bad idea, but as far as she knew, Dorian just had a single Tier Two elemental and Frigid Favor at this point, which could only make one small object cold for a few minutes before draining his magic. Unfortunately, Edgar wasn’t going to do much better, even if he managed to overcome his incendiary tendencies, since his magic was aimed at making fires, not putting them out.

At some point, either Shadow One or Shadow Two had closed the bedroom door, but now it burst open. A man stood there, wreathed in smoke as the fire surged toward the fresh source of oxygen. He extended a hand, and Edgar, Dorian, and the two men on the floor began to choke, gasping for air. The smoke halted in midair, then the fires sank down and died back to smoldering embers.

The foggy figure lowered his hand, and Air came back to the room. Everyone else drew in deep, rasping breaths, and Augustus stepped through the smog. His eyes caught on the boys, snagged again on the two fallen figures, both of whom now lay still, and landed on Pandy.

“Well,” he said mildly, as he crossed the room, stamping on sparks as he went, and threw open the window, allowing the smoke to escape. “We did say we’d send up a signal. This will do nicely. Well done, Rabbit.”

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