of her, a stranger with a curious
arsenal at her disposal? The question was, should she use the full
force of
her skills to combat them or was she just supposed to warn them, to hint at what they’d endure if she gave free rein to her abilities?
Clangk! Thonk th-thonk thonk thonk!
More street-waste was raining down around her than before, as if the number of her antagonists had grown. Yet they weren’t closing in on her; they stayed hidden, under cover. It was probably another test of her self-control. She would abide by the Millinery code of resorting to lethal violence only after every other option had failed. She’d already been wrong once this mission. She couldn’t afford to be wrong again. With an underhanded twist of the wrist, she sent her homburg shield whirling toward the oncoming projectiles. Almost in the same instant, she snapped open her wrist-blades. The homburg ricocheted from one makeshift missile to another, deflecting them back upon those who’d thrown them. With the spinning blades attached to her wrists, she easily knocked away the odd chunks of mortar that made it past the homburg, which now boomeranged back to her like an eager pet. As she listened to the fading footfalls of her assailants, she snapped the weapon back into its traditional homburg shape and flipped it onto her head.
Something was glowing in the half-ruined wall. She approached for a better look: a luminescent top hat emblem embedded in the brick.
“That was too easy,” she said, reaching out to touch the emblem, when— Eeeeeech! Eeeeeech! Eeeeeech!
A flock of seekers came soaring out of the sky, dive-bombing toward her. No need to debate with herself this time. Seekers were part vulture, part fly, all nastiness. Molly punched her belt buckle. The long, crescent-shaped sabers of her belt flicked open and, with both sets of wrist-blades activated, she at last exercised her abilities to their fullest, twisting and tumbling through the air, slashing at the shrieking creatures, sending them headlong to the ground with a blood-wet splat until—
They were gone, the street deserted.
She snapped shut her weapons, touched the glowing symbol in the wall and the scene vanished. She was standing in a vast armory, two city blocks square, the ceiling four stories above her head: the Holographic and Transmutative Base of Xtremecombat training, or HATBOX, at the Millinery. “Definitely too easy, even for someone as embarrassing as me,” Molly huffed. She marched back to the control booth at the opposite end of the room. Sure, Alyss and Bibwit and everyone else said it didn’t matter that she was a halfer. Sure, she had been made the queen’s personal bodyguard. But it wasn’t as if the position came with any serious responsibilities. Alyss was too powerful to need a bodyguard. And when Hatter had held the post, she knew, he’d been more involved in policy making and missions vital to Wonderland’s security. She’d probably never be treated like a full-fledged Milliner, never be considered good enough. Why else would Rohin and Tock have been sent to Earth to keep a lookout for Redd and The Cat? She was at least as talented in combat as they were. “More so!” she exclaimed aloud.
her skills to combat them or was she just supposed to warn them, to hint at what they’d endure if she gave free rein to her abilities?
Clangk! Thonk th-thonk thonk thonk!
More street-waste was raining down around her than before, as if the number of her antagonists had grown. Yet they weren’t closing in on her; they stayed hidden, under cover. It was probably another test of her self-control. She would abide by the Millinery code of resorting to lethal violence only after every other option had failed. She’d already been wrong once this mission. She couldn’t afford to be wrong again. With an underhanded twist of the wrist, she sent her homburg shield whirling toward the oncoming projectiles. Almost in the same instant, she snapped open her wrist-blades. The homburg ricocheted from one makeshift missile to another, deflecting them back upon those who’d thrown them. With the spinning blades attached to her wrists, she easily knocked away the odd chunks of mortar that made it past the homburg, which now boomeranged back to her like an eager pet. As she listened to the fading footfalls of her assailants, she snapped the weapon back into its traditional homburg shape and flipped it onto her head.
Something was glowing in the half-ruined wall. She approached for a better look: a luminescent top hat emblem embedded in the brick.
“That was too easy,” she said, reaching out to touch the emblem, when— Eeeeeech! Eeeeeech! Eeeeeech!
A flock of seekers came soaring out of the sky, dive-bombing toward her. No need to debate with herself this time. Seekers were part vulture, part fly, all nastiness. Molly punched her belt buckle. The long, crescent-shaped sabers of her belt flicked open and, with both sets of wrist-blades activated, she at last exercised her abilities to their fullest, twisting and tumbling through the air, slashing at the shrieking creatures, sending them headlong to the ground with a blood-wet splat until—
They were gone, the street deserted.
She snapped shut her weapons, touched the glowing symbol in the wall and the scene vanished. She was standing in a vast armory, two city blocks square, the ceiling four stories above her head: the Holographic and Transmutative Base of Xtremecombat training, or HATBOX, at the Millinery. “Definitely too easy, even for someone as embarrassing as me,” Molly huffed. She marched back to the control booth at the opposite end of the room. Sure, Alyss and Bibwit and everyone else said it didn’t matter that she was a halfer. Sure, she had been made the queen’s personal bodyguard. But it wasn’t as if the position came with any serious responsibilities. Alyss was too powerful to need a bodyguard. And when Hatter had held the post, she knew, he’d been more involved in policy making and missions vital to Wonderland’s security. She’d probably never be treated like a full-fledged Milliner, never be considered good enough. Why else would Rohin and Tock have been sent to Earth to keep a lookout for Redd and The Cat? She was at least as talented in combat as they were. “More so!” she exclaimed aloud.