Let me get something straight: I have many things to and updating 24/7 is not in that list. I am not a freaking computer, so I don't always update. Learning to deal with late updates is called patience. I don't mind constructive reviews but if you tell me I should update, well, here's my idea without going crazy.
First, you make an account and write a KC story and review the title to me. I'll check it out. Then, if you update it every day, I'll admit I am not the best writer. (Which is a known fact.) If you do this, I will tell you that you have a right to criticize me. Or unless you are God (Which I highly doubt). But if you don't, then stop typing up spam and give me a break!
And that's it before I just lose it. But I will try to update when I get a chance, remembering the fact I have more stories to update also.
On the Run to the Twenty First Nome
Tossing her bag as far as she could, Zia watched it teeter on the edge of the roof, before it fell to the rooftop.
Clutching the already crumpled letter tightly in her hand, Zia leaped to the roof, grabbing the ledge before she fell. Gasping, Zia managed to pull herself up before she looked down. That could've been messy.
Sighing, Zia recounted the past events that led her in this situation.
Flashback:
Fiona suddenly burst into the room, and Zia smiled at her, and just to show she was funny, Zia spun around, the dress billowing around her. "What do you think?"
Instead of getting the usual eye roll, Fiona did something weird: she burst into tears. Well, this is awkward, Zia thought, while patting Fiona's shoulder. It was strange seeing the older woman, usually strong, crying.
"Sorry, Fiona, I didn't mean to-"
Fiona quickly placed a finger on Zia's lips, effectively shutting her up. Wiping her face with one hand, Fiona managed to tell what had happened and the piece of parchment. With shaking hands, Fiona handed it Zia, whose eyes were wet with heavy tears.
"Zia, you are not safe here anymore," Fiona quietly said. "After Iskandar's death, heknows you aren't protected. He will come for you." She got up, and started tossing clothing and supplies into a bag. Rummaging through drawers, Fiona came up with a white linen long sleeve shirt and pants, with green embroidery on the hem.
"Put this on," she ordered, and Zia managed to quickly take off the dress and slip the new clothing, which was more comfortable and thinner. Fiona points to a pair of black flats, which Zia was more comfortable with.
Fiona grabbed the bag, and handed her a slip of paper. "Keep this safe, Zia. I have arranged a plane for you to get to New York, where one of my closest friends lives. He manages the Twenty First Nome, and yes Zia, the same Nome Desjardins warns about. But he is the only one right now that can keep you safe."
But Fiona didn't remember to explain how Amos looked like, because in the airport, nobody seemed to be expecting her. Since Fiona's address was very clear, Zia had managed to ask a taxi driver to bring her to the Brooklyn Bridge, where the address seemed to be talking about.
The catch was, Amos's houses was on top of a building. Why he didn't build the house on the ground like a normal person remained to be a mystery to Zia, but she had shrugged it off.
Examining the rooftops, she saw a golden light emitting out of a window. Window…
Shouldering her bag, Zia grinned at the sudden ridiculousness of all this. Some guy she didn't know who was tailing after her? Yeah right.
Zia could accept the fact Iskandar was…not with her anymore, but she couldn't believe she was in danger. Probably another one of Fiona's pranks.
"But then, Fiona wouldn't have joked with me after Iskandar died," Zia murmured to herself. Sighing, she jumped to the next rooftop, running to the next until she reached her destination.
The house wasn't even a house. It was a castle, to Zia, but others might argue with her and, including a PowerPoint presentation, prove Amos lived in a mansion. But what difference did it make to Zia? She wasn't supposed to be here, and if her memory was correct, this could be the same Amos, Amos Kane. Wasn't his brother condemned?
Here goes nothing, Zia thought and she knocked on the door, keeping herself strong. Iskandar wouldn't want her to break, after all.
Zia heard a few grunts behind the door, and she got the feeling someone was looking at her through the small people. Rolling her eyes, Zia put her eye straight on it, getting a surprised sound in response. The door quickly opened wide enough for Zia to enter and something furry pulled Zia inside as soon as the first gunshot sounded and the bullet hit the door.
So, love, hate, something, anything would be nice. I am pretty sure this is the one story I actually want to kill myself for; I sound so old with the type of style I write in! Anyways, hope you readers liked this and give me review including your opinion. Sorry it is so dam short, after a long awaited update!