Juliet and The Hunter (Hiatus)

Chapter Twenty-three

Taking Not-Enrique's lead had sounded like a good idea at the time, but, in practice, Jim finds himself wondering how he got himself into this mess. Currently on all fours and squeezing his robust frame through the tight ventilation system, Jim takes even and controlled breaths to calm his mild claustrophobia.

"Remind me why exactly I let you talk me into this."

"Because..." Not-Enrique starts. "They know that you know about the elevator - and you don't want to get caught, do ya?" his voice is gruff, but something tells Jim he's enjoying this more than he lets on.

Jim has had enough. "There's gotta be an easier way inside! And this isn't exactly the fastest escape route," he says, stopping dead in the vent.

"Lower you're voice or they'll hear you," Not-Enrique warns.

"Do you even have a plan to get us out of here?" Jim questions hysterically, starting to regret his life choices.

The changeling scoffs. "What do you take me for? An amateur?"

". . ."

"Ouch. That really hurt, man," he grunts with mock indignation. "As a matter of fact, I do. We wing it," he says as if the idea was fool proof and not a recipe for disaster.

Jim lies on his belly to catch his breath and looks up at his partner in crime. "We're going to die down here, aren't we?"

"Probably."

-ToA-

Angor Rot is getting impatient. When he forged his contract with the Pale Lady, he had not signed up for teaching a reluctant teen how to wield his Shadow Staff. Still, she has too much power over him and he is compelled to obey.

But this doesn't mean he is able to conduct the lesson with any measure of success.

"You have to summon the darkness from deep inside of you. Visualise!" he reprimands, rubbing his temples.

"You've said that a dozen times before. I hate to tell you this, but there is no darkness!" Claire fires back hotly.

They have been at this so long that Claire feels confident enough that her disobedience will not get her killed and talks back to her 'mentor' defiantly.

"I don't understand!" said Angor darkly. "Your magic is depleted. Darkness is all that should be left. Draw from your hatred; your frustration; your vice!" he roars.

Claire can feel it - in the inky depths of her soul, but she's afraid. Tapping into such a raw source of power means surrendering control. Maybe if she holds out just a little longer, Jim will find her. But she doubts he even discovered her trail. If she had more time, she might be able to fight back on her own, but her captors haven't even fed her or let her rest, so she's too tired to summon any pure magic.

Suddenly, letting go and giving into the darkness doesn't sound so bad...

-ToA-

Thin slits of light filter up through the slats of an air conditioning vent and into the eyes of the Trollhunter. Down below, he can hear voices. One of a troll he knows well; a familiar foe. The other is someone be has vowed to protect. The third is new and distinct from the others. It is cold and harsh and reminds him of bleak hopelessness.

Lifting the vent cover out of the base of the A.C. shaft, he quietly sets it aside. Motioning to Not-Enrique, he lowers himself into the shadowy room, dropping to the floor without a sound.

He locks eyes with Claire from behind Angor Rot's towering frame. She doesn't react, expertly reading his expression: wait.

Then, he counts down on his fingers, grinning widely and flashing Claire his pearly whites.

Three...

Two...

One...

A/N: Sorry for not updating in a while. I know how this story is going to end, it's just getting there that's the problem. Anyway, I hope you're still enjoying this fic and if you are, leave a comment and PLEASE VOTE! 😊

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