“Ow!” William barked as a thin twig slapped into his face, “Lansing! Could you at least pretend to take me into account!”
Through the brush Lansing glanced back, the brambles and haphazard sticks of the woods bent under her palms, “Sorry!” she grimaced, “I just want to get there.” and she pushed ahead, leaving William grumbling in follow.
It was autumn, and all the forest was gnarled, prickly, and damp, and not the best for hiking. But a hike through the trees and thick underbrush was the only way to reach their secret hideaway; Alexandra’s “laboratory” (as she called it), and last night both Lansing and William had received hastily scribbled notes slid under their doors:
Meet me at the workshop at sunrise.
You have to see this!
“Did she have to make us get up so early?” William bemoaned, ducking under a wet cypress branch as…
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