Kyle the Apprentice Warlock

“I thought I was being taken home?”  Her question was ignored and Jones shook his head while drawing close to her.  “Jones…” she hesitated speaking his name because it was the first time she’d ever said it and was worried that she’d misremembered it.  “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know Snow Cone.”  He’d used her brother's nickname for her without thinking.  Kyle had referred to her as Snow Cone so many times that he’d just started thinking of the kid as Snow Cone instead of as Anna.

The soldiers escorting them, who were not the same as the ones who had originally approached them in the city, exchanged glances.  They entered the building and after passing a few security checkpoints were led to rooms.  They opened one door and gestured for Jones to enter.

“No.”  He insisted adamantly.  “I’m under orders from museum personnel to protect Miss Wattkins.  Until she is reunited with her parents or museum personnel, she is not to leave my sight.”  Again, the soldiers exchanged glances with each other as if Jones’ words had confirmed some kind of suspicion they had. 

“She won’t be leaving your sight.”  One assured him.  Then the other walked a few feet down the hall and opened the door there.  When he flipped the light switch, the far wall of the first room lit up.  It was glass.  From an observation room.  Jones rolled his head back and looked up at the sky with a sigh.

“You have got to be kidding me.”  Because now he knew or at least suspected what was going on.  When she saw the interrogation room Anna’s heart leapt into a gallop.

“Am I in trouble?”  Her soft voice was incredulous as she stared at the room.

“No.  We just got on the radar of someone who thinks they have clearance, but doesn’t, so they don’t realize how much trouble they are going to be in.  Go on in, kid.  It’s fine.  They’re just going to waste a bunch of time and piss off your mom.”  Anna hesitantly entered the clean eggshell-toned room and immediately knocked on the mirror there.

The door was still open, but a soldier was standing at it between her and freedom.  She heard a knock in return, but it didn’t reassure her.

“How do I know that’s Jones?”  Ana called out just as she heard Jones shout coming from the open door.

“It’s me, kid.  Sit down and rest.  I’ll see if they can rustle you up a mana potion.  I know you’re exhausted.”  It was true.  Anna was exhausted.  She’d been running and fighting for hours, without breakfast or lunch.

“And some food?  I haven’t eaten today.  And since Mom’s been out of town Dad cooked last night.  It wasn’t good.”  After she’d said it, she wondered if maybe she’d crossed a line.  But Jones just laughed.

“I feel ya.  My dad’s a shitty cook too.  I’ll see what I can do.”  Then Anna heard some quieter muttering as Jones conferred with the others.  She sat down to wait and found herself resting her head on her forearms on the table.

In all honesty, Camina Wattkins was a terrible cook.  Really, really, awful. But she was smart enough to acknowledge that she sucked at cooking and made sure that the house had food.  Those pre-prepped meal boxes were lifesavers.  And sometimes one of her grandparents would come over and cook.  It was best when Kyle came over though.  He was a great cook.

Her dad did food like a bachelor who thought cooking was women’s work.  Take-out and microwave dinners were his staple.  Unless he forgot to go grocery shopping and was too cheap and lazy to buy delivery.  They’d had fried jelly and pickle wraps for dinner.  Which honestly wouldn’t have been that bad if they’d had peanut butter or strawberry jelly.  Nooo… all they had was grape jelly and pickles.

And the wraps hadn’t been deep fried.  They were pan-fried.  So, they were burnt in spots, undercooked in others, and filled with scalding melted jelly and hot pickles.  Sweet, grape, salty, dill in a whole wheat flour tortilla.  Who does that?  Why?  Grape jelly in fried pickle wraps?  Whole wheat tortillas? 

Everyone knew it was supposed to be fresh strawberries, dill, salt, and cucumbers with sour cream in a corn tortilla that was deep-fried.  The outside was supposed to be crispy. like a taco shell, and have malt vinegar sprinkled on it.  The flavors were supposed to be sweet-salty, and umami.  The inside was supposed to still be cool while the outside crunched.

It was only a few minutes before someone showed up with a juice box, a bottle of cold water, a bag of nuts and a vending machine sized bag of corn chips.

“We weren’t sure if you have any allergies?  The sailor who brought them in stated in a questioning tone.  Do you want the nuts?”  Navy now?  Interesting.  Anna felt her eyebrow raise at the new development.

“No allergies.”  She responded and took both bags and the juice box.  “Thank you.”  Tucking into her food, Anna settled in to wait while she glared intermittently at the mirror on the far wall.  This was not how she had expected to spend the rest of her day.

It was not until she had clearly finished snacking and tossed her trash in the little bathroom-sized bin in the corner, that someone finally showed up to talk to her.  She knew they were coming when she heard footsteps, a lot of them, coming down the hall.  Which was easy to hear because the door was still open to both rooms.  Anna heard the familiar sound of soldiers standing to attention and saluting as the newcomers shuffled in.

In the other room, Jones felt his heartbeat quicken as he watched a familiar face enter the room.  It was the Vice President of Daedalus Engineering, the foremost military contractor in the country.  Jones had never met the billionaire, but he’d seen him on TV enough times to recognize him.  He was accompanied by a group of rather serious men in black suits, and some higher-ranking military officials.  Not super high, not people who would have met Anna through interactions with her mother.  None of them were Magicorps, however, and that was concerning.

Jones had stood and saluted like a good soldier should.  And he’d gone along with things so as to not get Anna or Kyle in too much trouble while there was a crisis going on.  But these chuckleheads taking advantage of that crisis to corner Anna for some reason was going too far.

“At ease, soldier.” The highest ranked officer told Jones and his escorts.  So, Jones relaxed and took the proper stance before addressing them.  And no, he wasn’t particularly polite about it.