Spectres at the Feast

The Locksmith

Entry #1 for @syfy #BattletheBeast contest. Based on the show, "The Magicians"

~*~*~*~

Quentin rolled his shoulders, taking a deep breath, glancing to the small, shrouded figure beside him in the dim hallway.

"You're sure this'll work?" His voice quivered with anticipation and a healthy dose of trepidation.

"Look," the ebony skinned girl with flashing crystalline eyes drew back the heavy, black hood casting her face in shadows, "I told you, I can guarantee the doors will work—as to trapping your... "beast," that's up to you and your friends."

"If they ever get here," Quentin muttered.

On cue, Penny's irritated voice echoed up the stairs."Yo, you give the worst directions for a nerd." He was followed closely by Alice, Eliot, and Margo, all bickering amongst themselves about being dragged along for what appeared to be a bumpy ride. They stumbled into the large corridor, and immediately quieted, staring between Quentin and the woman.

"Sorry," Quentin mumbled. "I've got a lot on my mind, okay?"

Penny scoffed, "Yeah, we all do, dumbass. I told you, you had to concentrate for me to remotely get a handle on your location and follow you here. We landed in the middle of the Everglades. I'm still trying to get a hold on all my abilities as a traveler, and you were already asking a lot for me to transport everyone at the same time. You need to keep your shit together, I'm not getting killed because of you."

"Look," Alice piped up, "we have more important things to deal with. We got here, alright? That's what matters."

"Speak for yourself, sweetie," Eliot drawled. "These shoes are Italian leather, there's no resurrecting these babies."

"Not to mention the alligator that tried to take a piece out of my ass," Margo added, shuddering and stepping closer to Eliot.

"If you're all done with your bickering?" The girl stepped forward, her eyes glowing like otherworldly gems. Her skin was the color of polished onyx and her head was bald, shining in the flickering lights dotted throughout the hallway. "Quentin, time is of the essence. I suggest you all put aside this childishness for another time."

"Who's this?" Penny squinted at the girl, and then his eyes widened, and he stepped backward quickly. "How did you do that? How did she do that?" His voice pitched higher, and his eyes were wild.

"I'm the Locksmith," she replied simply, "and you were trying to get into my head. I was just returning the favor."

"I'm locked down tight, no one gets into my head without permission." He glared at her suspiciously.

"It is one of my talents." She shrugged her shoulders slightly and turned to the others. "My magic is specific, but versatile. To put it simply, I open locks. I can get into anything, anywhere."