Oh, hey. It's Tuesday. Let me tell you, internet, this three day weekend has really thrown me off. That being said, I want every weekend to be a three day weekend. Especially when I can be as lazy as I was this time around.
But I was not completely idle. I have plans, you see. I'm planning what battle Charlotte and the gang are going to fight. They might be in over their heads.
The spirits were crying.
The great gray cavern with its hidden waters was shaking, heaving with their sobs. They begged François to stay away from the wasted city, to come back to their shores, but he was powerless to obey them. He stood frozen and torn between their warm, loving power and the irresistible pull of Charlotte Foxtrot.
He was on the verge of tears when a gentle hand on his shoulder jolted him from his sleep. He always dreamt of the cave when he slept, and he didn’t usually like to leave, but he was overcome by sadness this time. François looked up at the startled face that hovered above him and hoped that his own expression was conveying the gratitude he felt.
Amanda placed her hand over her heart in a vain effort to hide how hard it was beating. She was worried; she had never seen him have such a fitful sleep.
“Was it a nightmare?” she asked him quietly.
“Non. No, it was…”
“A warning.” Charlotte had materialized in the doorway to their small cabin. Even dressed down in khakis, Charlotte radiated a sophistication that would put most royals to shame. “We dock in an hour. I suggest you dress comfortably.”
Amanda and François both let out the gasps they had stifled when Charlotte appeared. “I hate when she does that.”