incandescens | enjoying the quiet

Hot today, though not too hot - fingers crossed re tomorrow - and pleasantly quiet. Oh, and this English person seems to have won the men's singles at Wimbledon, so now I know what world-shaking event will be on all the front pages tomorrow.

Ah well, I have a week off in August coming up. That will be lovely and peaceful.

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Shadows descended from above, plummeting down in whirls of dark cloaks, landing on the gondola and setting it rocking. The gondolier swore, then crossed himself, and Irene sat up abruptly, letting Zayanna sag to one side. There were three of them, two in front of her, balanced on either side of the gondola, between her and the gondolier in his position at the back of the boat, and one behind her; she could see his boots and cloak out of the corner of her eye. “What is this?” she demanded.

The gondolier crossed himself again, then frantically turned back to the boat and the oar, flinching away from the new arrivals. They might have been male or female. It was impossible to tell. They wore black – heavy black doublets and breeches, black scarves around their throats, black tricorns, and plain black masks without any ornamentation at all.

Zayanna cuddled sleepily up against Irene’s side, dropping her head in Irene’s lap.

“We are the black inquisitors,” the one standing behind her whispered. The voice could have been male or female. It carried the length of the gondola, before the fogs cut it off.

“The lords of the night,” the one on her right whispered.

“The servants of the council of ten,” the one on her left agreed.

“We come by darkness, and we muffle you with our cloaks, and we take you to prison,” the one behind her murmured. The boat creaked as he – or she – shifted his weight, bending down towards Irene in a ruffle of heavy cloak. “And nobody will ever ask where you are gone, because everyone knows better than to ask.”

Irene swallowed down panic. Her first thought was, they’re trying to frighten me. Her second thought was, and it’s working.