I drew a little squiggly glyph in the newly formed dust. This circle was coming along well, especially compared to the other glyph I made. May you rest in peace, my friend.

I drew the symbol for earth in the center.

This glyph circle was also considerably smaller than the other, so it probably wouldn't blow up half The City. In the long run, I didn't really need glyphs for small things like this. Oh, it's meant to put a whole in the wall, by the way.

My right hand went back to the side of the circle to add 'understand' and 'acknowledge'. I gave my work the lopsided smile of approval.

"Hecate," Number One's familiar voice said.

I turned my neck to face him awkwardly.

"It's time for your execution."

"Oh, joy!" I stood up and wiped the remaining dust and grim off my plain prison clothes. Honestly, if I had one complaint about this place, I would be the clothes. Beige shorts and shirt. Even the silencer could be cute if you looked at it long enough. "Let's get going then. Don't wanna be late for my own execution."

"Erase the dark symbol."

"Glyph," I corrected, rubbing my bare foot over the small thing. "It's a glyph. I mean, honestly, if you're going to call yourself a magician hunter, might as well call it what it is."

He ignored me. I smiled anyways, turning to Number Two who was opening the door.

"Mr. Grumpy Pants isn't going to see me off?" I asked, a bit sad.

This time, Number One smiled while he put the silencers on my wrists. "Commander Zeeli will be waiting at the stadium with the rest of the city to watch you die."

"Well, I feel special." I smiled even wider. "A whole city there, just for me. Too bad my clothes aren't nicer."

Number Two came in to take hold of my left shoulder and wrist. Number One took hold of my right side. See? I told you special people were always on the right, whether it was planned or not. That seemed like a lot of work to plan, but these Black Hand's might do it. They liked being organized, which may be one of the underlying reasons Black Hands and magicians don't get a long. Just my theory though.

I waved good bye as best I could to the prisoners. The magicians who knew me were biting their lips in an attempt not to cry with tears pouring down their cheeks. The magicians who I didn't know looked sad to see me go. The kids didn't know me, but I think they got that the rest didn't want me to go. The non magicians even looked a little sad to see me making my death march.

Dying wasn't really scary for me, I just-

There were two thuds and two cries of pain. The weight dropped from my shoulders and wrists.

I turned to my left to see a Black Hand dressed in blue. She had short blonde hair and blue eyes with full red lips. She would've been even prettier if she didn't seem upset. In her hands, she held a gun. From what I could infer, she'd just knocked Number Two out with the butt of her gun. I could tell you from experience that it hurt.

On my right, a man with longer blonde hair tied into a pony tail was holding up his gun.

My face lit up. "Why hello again, friend. It's nice to see you're doing well."

"No time to talk Hecate," the woman said in a serious voice. She said we had no time, but she took the time to spit when she said my name. "We need to get moving."

"Alright, but can you take off my-"

We were off, running down halls with cheering prisoners. We came up the end of the hall, opposite of my own secluded cell. The woman pushed me against the wall while the man checked outside.

"You know, if you took off my silencer, I cou-"

I was silenced by a loud shush from the woman. Oh well, I'm sure they could take care of it anyways.

The man motioned with his hand for us to move. The woman, in tern, kept a tight grip on my wrist while we ran. Her other hand held a large gun at the ready. I really should put a little time into studying guns. I don't wanna come up on a situation like this and not know what I'm dealing with. On the other hand, not studying guns seemed like more fun.

A gun shot sounded from behind us.

The man yelled out a curse before he started back.

"We gotta move," the woman whispered, giving me an extra jerk. We turned into another hallway, or tried to at least. Guards were running our way. Instead, she kept pulling me forward.

The man began yelling orders while he shot back. "Third door on," an ear splitting siren started, "on the left!"

The woman obeyed, pulling me through the door. It was closed and locked behind us.

Looking around, I saw we were in barracks. There were rows of empty bunk beds with duffle bags pushed under them.

"How nice," I commented, smiling at the little room.

In the corner of my room, I could make out a certain someone leaning casually against the wall.

"Mr. Grumpy Pants!" I yelled in joy at the black haired man with broad shoulders and long arms. He had a pistol tied to his waist and a bigger gun slung around his shoulder. "It's good to see you again."

His cold gray eyes watched me for a beat before turning to my two rescuers.

Just when I thought he was going to shoot us, he said, "Took you long enough."

The other man replied. "Sorry. They caught on to us faster than we thought. We can't go back out this door."

"No kidding," the woman commented. "What now, Commander Zeeli?"

"There's a trap door below the third bed on the left."

The man nodded. Counting down three beds all the way on the left side, the my friend stopped. With the woman's help, they pulled it out of the way. Sure enough, under the bed was an old fashioned trap door. It was yanked open.

"Heather," Zeeli said to the woman, "you go in last. Push the bed back over it and slide in. You're the smallest so you should be able to fit."

She nodded. No arguments from that one.

Mr. Grumpy Pant's hand went to my back, pushing me forward. I looked over the whole in the ground.

"Looks kinda deep..."

"Just go." I shrugged, jumping down anyways. My feet got that uncomfortable tingly feeling that you get when you drop from too high.

"Yep, that's deep."

Zeeli came down behind me, immediately followed by the other man and shortly later, Heather.

"Where are we?" My blond boy friend asked. I said boy friend not boyfriend. There's a difference, you know.

"Third floor janitors closet," Mr. Grumpy Pants answered. "We go out the door and hang a left. Heather, keep Hecate going. I got front, Hatchet in back."

"Hatchet?" I asked. "That's a cool name. Kudos to your parents for their naming skills."

I was ignored again.

Zeeli checked the front, peeking out the door. We waited for a second before he signaled us out. Heather kept a permanent hand on my wrist while we ran, her other hand tightly gripping the gun.

The shooting started three minutes after we left the room. It came from Mr. Grumpy Pants in the front. Men fell dead, besides us.

Hatchet was next. We turned right only to be met with more guards.

"Shit," Mr. Grumpy Pants cursed. "Get ready."

Heather let go of my wrists to focus on her gun.

I cleared my throat, catching their attention. "Sorry to interrupt you and your well planned genocide, but I can help too, you know. And it'll be a lot less bloodier, too. All you have to do is get these thing off me."

Zeeli looked at me, and then the oncoming soldiers.

"Quintin," Heather said, her voice sullen. "You're not seriously considering letting her out."

"You won't kill them?" He asked me, really looking at me for the first time.

I shook my head, a smile still sitting on my lips. "Not if I don't have to."

He nodded.

"Hatchet, get the silencers of her wrist and fast. They're almost here."

Quintin's hands went to my neck, Hatchet's to my wrists. After a few seconds, they both clunked on the ground.

"Excuse me," I said, moving past Heather who was glaring at me.

Peeking down the hall, I was nearly hit by a bullet. I snapped back.

I let out a little laugh. "Well that was close."

I pulled at some of the magic that was coming back by the tons. Sticking my left hand, I held two fingers forward. In a simple and quick movement, I flicked them up. First came a great rumble and then there was silence. I stood up, wiping the dirt from my rump and then rounding the corner.

While I was at it, I covered the halls in front and behind us, trapping us in a little room of concrete.

"Well that was fun," I said, smiling. "What next?"

"We needed to go that way," Quintin said, irritated.

"No problem." I lifted my hand again, drawing another wall about twenty feet behind the first. Dropping my hand in a cutting motion, I made a third stone wall down the middle. Finally, I brought both of my hands together and pulled them apart. Slowly, the walls moved with my command, parting for us. The soldiers, on the other hand, had been gently pushed back against the wall.

"Better?"

He didn't reply, but instead kept going. We followed closely behind. I could feel Heather's eyes boring into my back.

"You know," I said, "I like the name Quintin. It's a nice name. Hatchet and Heather are cool too, especially Hatchet." We hung a left. There were guards already waiting for us with guns trained on our heads.

"Surrender," one of them commanded, "or we will be forced to shoot."

I clapped my hands together like I was planning on praying making all of them jump. I pulled my hands apart, calling on pure magic to form a soft barrier in front of us with water like properties but a green glisten, instead of blue.

"Fire!" Another yelled, alarmed.

They did. The Three Black Hands besides me cringed, turning away from the guns. When they looked up, they saw my little creation. A perfectly floating soft barrier dropping every bullet that touched it.

"See," I explained, "it's a soft barrier. If it was a hard barrier, the bullets would've bounced off and that wouldn't have ended well."

"No time for talk," Mr. Grumpy Pants said, grabbing my arm and pulling me.

"But there's always time for talk," I said, stumbling before regaining my balance. "I love talking. Anyways, back to what I was saying before. I really don't know who came up with the name Hecate. I think it's the Greek goddess of magic which is weird because I know almost nothing about anything Greek. Maybe I should look into learning about it sometime. Maybe I could steal some cool moves from Zeus or something. Is there a Greek god or goddess called Hemetis? There should be. It's a cool name."

"Shut up," Heather finally said. "It's bad enough that we have your magic thing following us, but listening to you ramble on about these little things is just annoying."

"Well I'd take the barrier down but I've been shot before and let me tell you something, it's not fun."

"Can I shoot her when this is all over?"

"Considering it," Quintin growled out. "We're coming up on the trash shoot, get ready to jump."

The others nodded.

The trash shoot tuned to be a disgusting place, which I probably should've guessed. I was covered in old food by the time we reached the bottom, not to mention we fell into a dumpster. On the bright side though, it was a soft landing.

Hatchet used his gun to seal the shoot closed.

"Get in the van," Quintin said, jumping out of the dumpster without a second thought. "We have a ways to go."