by Jamie Ott
Chapter 3
Over the next couple of days, people could be seen staring up at the mysterious warehouses. Sometimes, Lin couldn’t help but stand and stare herself, even though she’d seen them many times already.
The mysterious warehouses inspired gossip like never before. Everywhere Lin went people either talked of leaving Blackthorn or complained that Deputy Dennison wasn’t doing a good job of protecting the people.
Then there were all the theories about what the warehouses were for.
“Hey, Lacy,” Lin said to the waitress that following Saturday at the Blackthorn Lodge.
Noticing a table of half a dozen people involved in a heated discussion, and one guy who mimed every word with his hands, Lin asked, “Are they talking about the warehouses?”
“Everyone’s talking about them. I think the Wackens have a secret weapon hidden in them, like an enormous laser eye that can turn everyone into zombies.”
“Why would they do that?”
“To force us to do their will; to brainwash us,” she said in a matter-of-fact way. “You having your usual?”
After breakfast, Lin took her usual stroll through the business district of Blackthorn. Normally, it was less crowded at that time, except for a few open shops’ visitors. She liked the feeling of the deserted buildings because it was peaceful. Lin loved to pop in to her favorite place, Lucy’s Foot Footing, and chat with the owner. That day, however, the shop appeared to be closed. It was dark inside, and there wasn’t any movement.
She was about to walk on, but then, Lin saw the familiar light at the back desk.
Lin placed her hands on the glass, and peered in. In the back, Lucy was doing something, paperwork, possibly. It was hard to see because it was so dark. She knocked furiously on the glass.
Lucy, a tall waifish blonde, looked up with wide eyes. She looked annoyed, as she waived her hands in a “go-away” gesture, and looked back down at her desk.
This hurt because Lin thought they were pretty chummy. Offended, she stood there, stubbornly. Finally, Lucy got up and came to the door.
“I’m closed,” she said shortly.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, ‘why’?’ The town is going crazy. I’m leaving for my safety.”
“The best thing to do, in a time of crisis, is to stay calm and not do anything irrational.”
Lin felt awkward giving this advice, especially since she considered fleeing herself.
“I’m not being irrational. People are dying, here. I have family and friends in the human world that I want to see again. I’m sorry, but I must go. Excuse me.”
She closed the shop door and walked back to her desk.
And as if things weren’t bad enough, all over town, paranoia had struck like a virus. It first showed its symptoms at the Historical Society’s staff meeting. Ms. Crackwell announced that secret Wacken operatives were there at the academy.
“Just ridiculous,” said Minton. “If the Wackens were in our school, we’d know about it.”
“Please, Madam,” Miles pleaded, “there are plenty of people who could secretly be working for Golshem and his followers, but that doesn’t warrant blacklisting. Everyone is innocent until proven guilty, here.”
“Yes, please, let’s not encourage paranoid people to make outrageous accusations,” said Doctor Mandel. “You could ruin people’s lives, subject them to ridicule and other forms of alienation. And further, what if they aren’t working for the Wackens, but instead, the contention?”
“What’s the contention?” asked Lin.
“Please,” Miles interrupted. “I’m not saying let’s become a lynch mob, I’m just saying let’s be vigilant. The Deputy is doing everything he can, but he is only one man. Now there has been talk of traitors before, and Dennison is more certain than ever that this is the case here. Since the Blackthorn Academy and the Society has the highest concentration of residents and tourists, it is likely that we could stumble onto an important clue. That is why Deputy Dennison has asked me to ask you to help out by looking for any unusual behaviors. You are not to do anything about it. You are only to report what you see to me. Thank you. ”
Miles left looking disappointed in his staff.
Throughout Lin’s classes of the day, she heard mention of the warehouses and the Wackens. Dutifully, she would listen and observe. But she didn’t hear anything strange, and she didn’t see anything strange.
Curious about how the witch, Golshem, came about, Lin asked the only person she’d become somewhat friendly with on the staff: Professor Milton.
“The Wackens first showed themselves at our International Mage Convention,” he told her in the common room at break. “It was Golshem who preached to the council that they should unite under one government, and live in a place that would enhance our magic. He envisioned a land where we could walk about freely.”
Half hearing him and half lost in his beautiful dark eyes, she asked, “What did he mean, exactly? And where did he learn such archaic thinking?”
Milton’s eyes flickered a bit. His smile widened as he looked directly into her eyes. Lin knew he’d always found her attractive; she just didn’t know if he knew she felt the same. At that moment, there was no doubt that he knew.
Nervously, Lin fidgeted and looked away.
“I’m not sure. I heard he has the typical villainous background, you know: broken home, no friends, angry, bullied as a child. That sort of thing.”
Milton took a step closer to Lin. He towered over her. She looked up into his eyes.
“What are you doing Friday?” he asked.
“Nothing, yet.”
“How about dinner?”
