“And I suppose it’s too much to hope that necromancy will off the servant in charge on its own to restore balance,” said Jane ruefully. The mention of a safehouse comforted her. And, perhaps, a magician would overlook nonmagical means of toppling him, confident of being approached by another magician; it would only hurt them to overestimate him, though they mustn’t underestimate either. She glanced at Snow, wondering how the princess was taking it all.
Snow White was overwhelmed as they walked. She tried to listen, but at the same time she felt like was drowning in information overload. She tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind, the only thing that kept coming to her mind was how utterly unprepared she was.
Doc gave her a half smile, “We can only hope. What we really need is white magic. That is the true match.” he mused aloud.
Jane gave a small smile. ”I don’t suppose we know anybody who practices white magic, though,” she mused aloud; but her tone asked for suggestions, not prophesied their defeat.
Snow White tried to think but came up with no one as they walked. She started feeling hopeless as they neared a fork in the road. Sir Gawain stepped up. “It’s to the left, the rest of the day’s walk.”
The sun had set by the time they came up on a desolate village, only the small pub in the middle had smoke coming from the chimney. Sir Gawain turned to them, holding up his hands. “Be careful coming in here. People are desperate. And Princess, pull up your hood, we need to see how everyone feels before we let them know you’re here.”
Snow White nodded, her brown eyes wide and she scooted closer to Jane. “I hope this goes okay.”
