Gwen put the gauntlets under a glass box on her shelf. She had placed a minor hex on it, only something that would make the box unable to be opened by anyone, but she was sure the knights would find a way around it. Just smash the box, most likely. But it was only for show, anyway.
It was the wall she was concerned with. Gwen had spent hours with Charmcaster creating a complicated hex that would give the Knights a run for their money. The knights could walk in, and Gwen was sure they would, enticed by the gloves. After they disabled the charm, they would gleefully run out to their cohorts, gloves in hand. And then disaster would strike. Whoever crossed the line of Gwen's wall the opposite way without the password would be frozen in place, along with anyone they considered their partners.
Gwen and Charmcaster had had a lot of fun coming up with it, the kind of intelligent yet naughty work they could both enjoy. Of course, Charmcaster had wanted the hex to suck them into the earth, but Gwen pointed out that they would suffocate, and she didn't really want them to die.
But she would work them to the bone. Oh yes, she would.
Gwen grinned to herself and grabbed the keys to her mother's car. She had made sure her plans to see a movie with Ben were well broadcasted, for the third time. Thankfully, the hex had not needed to be reset, nor did it keep a constant drain on her energy. It simply was and would be until it was in action. Gwen turned the key in her new car and left.
Sir Frederick looked at his men. All assembled had been in the service for years and proven themselves worthy of assaulting the witch's home. Frederick was confident tonight would be a success.
The wheels of the truck rolled to a stop and Sir Frederick jumped lightly out, followed by his men. There had been no reason for a meeting, as they were all aware of the drill by now. Killigrew came last, toting the fair-sized pelgun. Frederick let Killigrew handle the weapon because he knew Killigrew loved it. The pelgun was a good bit stronger than the average laser lance, and the stone wall stood no chance. Killigrew set it on the ground a fired one huge blast, blowing the wall apart. Chunks of masonry fell for yards around.
Still smoking, Killigrew hoisted the weapon over one broad shoulder and grinned at his commander. "Sure ya don't need it again?" he asked. At this phase, he was to put to blaster away, since it was unnecessary to use it on the wall of the house itself.
Sir Frederick grinned slightly, but motioned for Killigrew to put the weapon up and draw his lance. Killigrew did so without complaint and moved back to his station by the wall. He would remain on watch with his partner, Sir Tyson, for the remainder or the operation.
Sir Frederick moved on with the remainder of the group. Beside him was Sir Hale, the second most senior member of the group and Frederick's right hand man. His helmet was down, but Frederick didn't have to see his face to know the unconcerned assurance in Hale's gait.
"You're sure the witch is out?" Archer whispered to Sir Timberlane. He was new to the group and wasn't aware of Timberlane's uncanny ability with technology.
"Yes. Shhhh," Timberlane whispered back shortly. He wasn't known for his patience, and Archer had already asked him several times. Now they were at the house and Frederick made the motion for the three knights to lance the wall. The three of them concentrated their lances on a single spot on the wall and the result was an elephantine hole large enough for all four to walk through abreast. The knights glanced around cautiously for a moment, but no one came running at the noise. Satisfied, Sir Frederick took the lead.
Frederick's first warning bells went off when he saw the gauntlets. He was well aware of the inhuman strength the gauntlets possessed and the need for the organization to be the sole owners of the gloves for safety and progress's sake, but the last two times they had been forced to rip the room apart in their search. Tonight's plan was to give the rest of the house the same treatment. Yet, here they were, set out like a cake.
"I don't like this," Hale muttered to him. Frederick grunted his agreement and stared at the box, looking for the answer to the puzzle it caused. He was fairly certain they could combat any spell the witch could throw at them, but he didn't like not knowing what they might face.
"It's a trap!" Archer whispered in furious fear. "Oh, I knew the witch would have something up her sleeve. We're all doomed."
Timberlane remained silent, but his tenseness translated itself. Frederick made an executive decision. "Timberlane, open the box."
Sir Timberlane did as his commander asked, but with noticeable hesitation. Finally, he placed his hands around the glass box and tugged upward, but to no avail. He repositioned himself and tried again, but nothing happened. "It's stuck," he announced to Frederick. Frederick again frowned as he tried to come up with a way to set the gloves free, but Hale moved first. Before anyone could react he took the butt of his lance and gave the glass a sharp tap. The glass shattered easily, and Timberlane reached in and took the gloves.
Sir Frederick grinned at his friend in mild amusement and gratitude. "Can't over-complicate things," Hale shrugged. Timberlane put the gloves in a small case on his belt and the group moved to go, but Frederick was still worried. "Let me see those gloves," he asked Timberlane. Timberlane quickly grabbed the gloves out and gave them to Frederick, who examined them closely. They passed inspection, but something was off.
"What's wrong?" Timberlane asked. Frederick, at a loss, resorted to the only test he had left. He put the gloves on. The group waited in tense anticipation for something terrible to happen, but let out a collective breath when nothing did. Frederick, content for the moment that he wasn't going to die, decided to test the gloves further. Going to a particularly heavy looking bookcase Gwen kept in her room, he reached to the bottom and tried to pick it up.
Nothing happened. "She's attempted a trick, the fiend," Archer stated in disgust.
"Well, it wasn't a clever one," Hale responded.
Frederick, reassured now that he had discovered Gwen's trick, relaxed. "Alright, fan out and find the real gloves," he ordered. His men moved in compliance, ripping apart the room in short order. Frederick himself moved about, searching for the true gloves, when he noticed the stand that the box had been on. It was a large black case, some three feet high, and curious, he knocked on it.
He smiled at the hollow boom that resounded. Hale, alerted to the noise, joined him at the box. Together, the two hoisted the hollow case up to reveal the real two gloves, laid out on a small pillow. By now Archer and Timberlane had joined them, and quickly Frederick tried out the gloves. A desk, a computer, and several books went flying through the air. "Let's go," Frederick ordered, and content with a job well done, the small group began to walk out toward the Sirs Killigrew and Tyson.
Frederick was first. As soon as the toe of his boot crossed the border, he felt himself frozen in place, unable to move even his jaw. He felt his heart hammer when he noticed he no longer heard the movements of his men either. He could still see Tyson, even though he could not move his eyes, and the other man was not moving either. He could only assume Killigrew was ensnared as well. Silently, Frederick cursed himself for being so foolish. He should have known the witch was smarter than a fake case. After a few minutes of mental abuse, Frederick did the only thing he could and resigned himself to whatever was coming.
Gwen felt a twinge in her mana and smiled.