Thread:ThisIsXenon/@comment-32273133-20190603230926/@comment-32273133-20190729204106

“Maybe luck? Maybe he enchanted it? I don’t know,” Trin throws their hands in the air. “My ‘taste’ in jobs has been the same since i was a kid. Whatever the case, he has some of my hair and he can make as many tracking and tracing spells as he wants.”

“I’m sorry,” Bex says tearfully. “I’m so sorry, Trin.”

“It’s not your fault,” Trin turns to Bex. “You were scared for me. And you wouldn’t have known Percy’s plan.”

“But I still went to him—“

“And who knows if magic was involved,” Trin says. “If he still has that couch you bled on after....after everything went south in Hesterland, then he’s got the tools to track you as well.”

“Damn,” Bex murmurs, slumping as well. Her hand drops from her face, and then you can see what she’s covering up.

Four deep scars, almost like fingernail scratches, stretch from her temple to her mouth, tugging at her lips and her eye and twisting her expression. Trin gasps and jerks away. “Bex, what happened?”

Bex clamps her hand back over the scars and looks at the floor. In the background, an alarm begins to blare.