"How likely do you think it is that humans stole the gold rather than vampires?" Sigrid asked me. I was caught off guard by her question. Was Sigrid actually beginning to regard me as equal in this investigation? "Well?" she asked impatiently. Nope, scratch that. She was only asking for the mere fact I was human.

I snorted derisively at the notion of a human being responsible. "Slim to none…" I said. "It may be humans working in cahoots with vamps, but I seriously doubt humans did this on their own."

"Ah, because of the glamour placed on the donor with the gold bar." She expression softened with thought, and the warm flicker of the flames in the drawing room fireplace softened her further. Sigrid had asked me to meet her back in the drawing room to debrief after poor Dylan had been dragged to the gallery.

"Yes, but aside from that, no human would be stupid to steal from a vampire. Let alone a vampire queen."

"But a vampire would be?" She lifted a brow.

"Oh, for sure. Y'all are…" Morally bankrupt? Sinners? "Much more cunning," I finished, landing on a vampire-appropriate PC response. She nodded, seemingly satisfied with my observation and handed her tablet to me.

"I can think of several vampire suspects, many of whom will be attending the Queen's birthday celebrations," she said. "I have a collated a list of their human companions and have found their photographs online for you." The document on the screen was mostly social media photos, I realized, as I scrolled down the list. There were more than a dozen different humans. "I expect you to familiarize yourself with their appearance so that you can listen in on Friday night."

"I figured as much…" I sighed, handing the tablet back to her once I got to the end of the list.

"Hold onto this device," Sigrid said. "You need to be able to recognize them among a room of hundreds. Study their images."

"Hang on," I said, scrolling back up through the pictures. "Does the Queen have a preferred companion?" I frowned, thinking back over the human staff and donors I'd interviewed over the last few days. I glanced up to see Sigrid's face hard as cement, her eyes dark and roiling.

"Only her husband," she clipped.

My frown deepened and I looked up at the painting of the couple in question. "No human who would feel hard done by after her marriage?" Like Hadley had when Sophie-Anne nearly married Peter Threadgill. Maybe it was a spurned lover who was behind all of this?

"None," was Sigrid's stony reply. She returned to her open laptop, resuming her typing.

"What about the donor with all the bite marks?"

She paused and stared at me. "Who?"

"Claire, I think."

She nodded slightly. "She likes to be bitten."

"By the Queen specifically?"

"Yes, but I vetted her. You did also."

That was true. I made a note to go back and check her out again, however. No stone unturned. I scrolled back down the list on the touchscreen tablet. A sharp pain pricked my fingertip, and I cursed softly. I frowned as I lifted my fingers to examine the tips. Blisters… There were blisters across the tip of every finger on my right hand. I ran my thumb across them lightly. What on Earth? When did they get there?

I lifted them to my nose and sniffed. I caught a whiff of a sour pang. It smelled like… Like what? I thought hard. Kind of like batteries, but stranger. Like back in the day when Amelia and Octavia would take over the living room at home and cast spells. Like when vampires or foes had tried to cross the wards on the perimeter of my farmhouse property but instead came into contact with the invisible magic barrier… Like when Bubba escorted me on his arm to the witch-war. Something niggled at the back of my mind. A strange sense of deja-vu.

I glanced up at Sigrid, but she was ensconced in her work… and I couldn't really think of a polite way to ask her to smell my fingers. Instead, I thought back over my day. When on Earth did I burn myself?

I couldn't even remember coming into contact with something hot. What did I even do today? I thought through my actions chronologically. How could I have burned myself? What had I done? I'd met with Joshua in the study, then wandered around listening in on the staff comings and goings, went out to the gazebo after being stood up Joshua and then… and then… I remembered seeing the hut through the woods. Hadn't I wanted to walk out there and check it out? Yes, I was sure I wanted to …I think.

I pressed the blister on my pinkie until it smarted. Ouch. And yes, I'd definitely wanted to look at that little hut and now I was sure I'd done just that. Except I didn't haven't the foggiest clue as to what had happened when I did.

•──── ─────•

The next morning I moved virtually unseen through the palace and gardens. If I thought things were crazy the few days before, today the palace was calamitous with movement. Staff and casual hired help for the event were single-minded in their determination to get things done. It suited me—because I'd formed a plan. Not a great plan, but I had a lead and I was chasing it. Sigrid might see me as a tool, but I was going to Nancy Drew this mystery up until I solved it, then collect my payday and catch next flight back to Shreveport. I had my notes tucked inside my purse and stood outside the palace gates until my cab arrived.

It was a costly cab ride into Oklahoma City, but one I intended to recoup with the list of my other expenses afforded to me by my contracted per diem. Food, flights, etcetera. This little trip was part of the 'et cetera'. Oklahoma City didn't appear to have a big Wiccan community (according to my internet sleuthing) but I did find a list of eight witchcraft/spiritual-type stores online to visit. The first three were either located in strip malls and another in a mega-mall. I visited them one by one, trying my best to poke around, test the minds of the staff for their legitimacy. Were they simply a retail store that specialized in occult items—or were they practicing witches?

As the morning dragged on my efforts seemed fruitless. The first three stores were run by new age spiritual types, another was a simple tourist trap run by a hippy couple who would sell you weed if you were to ask for it subtly enough (this I gleaned from their thoughts), another two stores were part of a larger chain that seemed to have nothing to do with witchcraft—so it was lucky number seven where my lead finally bore fruit.

Mystic Tarot was located in the heart of the Paseo Arts District, a funky little gentrified area in the center of OKC. The store, my first clue that I was onto something legitimate, was located down an alleyway and next door to an old-school Chinese dumpling restaurant. When I arrived, the restaurant already had a line of lunch-time patrons vying for a seat inside the cramped confines of the small restaurant. The doorway of Akashic Tarot next door was empty of patrons, however, and the door itself was painted maroon and peeling. A sign hung above it featuring a hand-painted mystic eye symbol inside a triangle.

Chimes tinkled as a I crossed through the threshold, and I was met with the heavy, cloying scent of spiced incense. The store, dimly lit and cramped, was crowded with shelves of crystals and books. Music, something atmospheric and without a beat, played softly. The counter stood unmanned until a middle-aged woman, svelte and with wavy red hair, emerged from beaded curtains behind it.

"Good morning," she greeted warmly. "Are you here to book an appointment?"

"No, I'm sorry. I'm in need of a little advice. Do you have time to talk?"

I probed her mind and as I did, her hand faltered midway through her gesturing toward the beaded curtains that led to the back room. She caught my eye and held my gaze appraisingly. Yes, she was indeed a witch.

"Certainly, please come through. I charge seventy-five for thirty minutes and fifty for a minimum quarter-hour reading."

Whoa nelly, I guess I'd have to chalk this up to another "et cetera" expense. I followed her through to the back, sure that she had detected my mental probing, though her mind was surprisingly open and easy to read. She was most certainly a witch and at that moment she was curious about who I was and of my ability.

Behind the curtain was another small room, this one featuring a small velvet-covered card table in the center. In the corner sat a large salt lamp that cast the room with a warm pinky glow. Upon the card table lay a thick stack of tarot cards.

We sat facing each other across the table.

"My name is Morwenna, may I ask your name?"

"Sookie."

"And what brings you here today, Sookie?" She picked up the stack of tarot cards, her small hands expertly maneuvering them into a shuffle that would put seasoned Vegas dealers to shame.

"I have a few questions. I'm here hoping to get a few answers."

She handed the cards to me, indicating for me to shuffle. "A broken heart is it? Troubles with a lover?"

"Oh… Nothing like that."

"A former lover then?" She smiled, the corners of her eyes settling into well-worn smile lines. She was pretty, with delicate features and a narrow though slightly hooked nose. I fumbled a little with the cards before managing to shuffle them. I passed them back and cleared my throat. I wasn't sure what to say. She thought I looked brokenhearted.

"It's not so much about me," I eventually clarified.

She shuffled again, before having me cut the cards several times, and she then dealt ten cards face down onto the table in a sort-of cross formation. Finally, she placed the remaining cards on the table in a neat stack.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Okay." I wasn't sure what to expect. This wasn't what I had anticipated when I set out at the start of the day. She turned over the first card in the formation, the one that sat in the center of the cross. It was a picture of a stooped old man with a lantern.

"The hermit," she said, turning the card on the spot so I could see the image more clearly. "This is your current influence. It signifies that this a time of deep introspection and consideration for you. Above all, you must trust your gut instinct and retreat within yourself to find the right path and also the wisdom to move forward."

The questions… The ones I'd come here to ask her—about the magic I'd detected on the Queen's property—they evaporated from me.

"You strike me as a person who tends to rely heavily on gut instinct, would I be right?" she asked. I let out a rather unladylike snort.

"You can say that again. Though my intuition is not always right, sadly."

"The same can be said of all of us. The curse of humanity, is it not?" She turned the next card. "The card placed in this position reveals the nature of the obstacles before you. The ones you came here seeking to answer today." I went to speak but she lifted a finger from where it touched the card in order to silence me. "Not the ones you think you came here to seek answers for."

I frowned and leaned forward to examine the second card. Five pentagram-style stars were positioned in the center of an illustration where two maimed figures walked through snow below, one on crutches, the other sick and emaciated.

"The Five of Pentacles," she said. "This card represents a deeply negative obstacle in your life at this time. Financial loss, employment difficulties… Duplicity. Emotional troubles, particularly. You are struggling with emotional turmoil, perhaps as a result of infidelity or heart break...Does this ring true?"

I clasped the edge of my chair tightly and scooted the seat forward. I'd never put much stock in this hocus-pocus stuff. I mean, spells and all the work I'd seen Amelia and Octavia do? Sure. But future telling through shuffling cards seemed… So bogus. Tarot reading always struck me as a bit of a parlor trick; but despite that, right now, my heart felt like it was lodged in my throat.

"Yes," I said, and my response came out as a croak. "Things have been difficult. Work and my personal life."

She turned the next card. It revealed a naked man and woman holding hands. The Lovers.

"Is that good?" I asked.

"The Lovers doesn't necessarily signify love. Though in this position here, it means you've been reliving some past hurt due to some sort of important or difficult decision. This is bad, in that the choices it signals are generally mutually exclusive, paths to two very different futures, but also good, in that it confirms that at least one of those paths will take you to a good place."

"How will I know if I've taken the right path?" I asked.

"Time. Perspective. Each situation is unique."

I nodded, feeling unexpectedly robbed of words.

"An ex?" she probed. I nodded again and rapidly blinked back the prickling sensation in my eyes. She turned another card. "This card here, the Nine of Pentacles, shows reward due to hard work and vigilance. It is placed in the past events position." She looked at me and smiled warmly. "I can see you have been working hard to achieve some sort of career satisfaction or goal toward prosperity. Perhaps you've had some promotion at work, or increase in your duties. The figure here, as you see, is standing in his garden solitary, so it can also indicate you have been seeking companionship or have struck out on your own."

"I recently opened a business," I said. The man on the card was dressed in a robe, standing serenely with a sparrow on his finger. "I have a business partner, but the bar is my own, basically."

"It seems this card here would very much apply to your current situation, then." She turned over the next card. The Six of Cups was printed neatly along the bottom, and the imagery depicted two young children standing in a town square smelling flowers.

"What does this card signify?" I asked.

She smiled and chuckled. "Eager. Now, this card placement represents your goals and destiny. And here, with the Six of Cups, it represents past associations. Perhaps some sort of reconciliation… With family, old friends… Past lovers? Have you been in recent contact with this ex?"

"Yes, actually."

"Perhaps your love will rekindle again?"

I laughed sharply. "Oh, I highly doubt that. He's remarried."

"Ah," she nodded knowingly. "If not that, then closure and apology. This card suggests that someone is in the process of rewarding you greatly in an emotional sense, and dreams you had thought long extinguished will be given new life again. Perhaps seeing your ex now, you will be given the chance to set your heart free and truly move on, find your happiness with someone else, somewhere elsewhere. That doesn't necessarily mean requited love, it can mean closure."

I didn't really have much to say or think about that. In theory, finding new happiness sounded well and good, but in reality it was like someone promising me my very own pet elephant. I might have room for it at home, but couldn't really picture it happening. My eyes traveled to the next card.

She turned it over and her hand paused above it, faltering, as if in surprise. "Ah," was all she said.

"What is it?" The card showed a love heart with three swords piercing through it.

"The Three of Swords" she said, forming the words carefully. "Found here, it represents the future… And suggests significant pain is coming your way."

"Really? What sort of pain?"

"This pain is likely caused by, or the result of, conflict. Perhaps due to a disrupted business partnership or friendship. This pain and disruption may be part of a new beginning, but you must face your pain honestly to overcome it."

"But what sort of pain? Physical … emotional?"

"It's hard to say."

"Not to do with my ex, though, right?" I said, feeling a sudden need to clarify this with her. "I have very little to do with him nowadays. In fact, I've hardly thought of him at all until recently."

"It very well may be to do with him but not directly. Perhaps his current influence in your life will set future events into play."

I leaned back against the seat and chewed on my lip pensively. I didn't like the sound of that.

"This card represents you," she said upon overturning the next card. "The Queen of Swords. A strong-willed and perceptive woman. Independent and deeply influenced by loss and separation throughout your life. Perhaps you've lost close family members at crucial points in your development. You've used your grief as a means to drive yourself forward, to enhance your position." I nodded along slowly as she spoke. It rang true, this part particularly. "But," she warned, "a war rages inside you. You're trying to prove to yourself that you are worthy despite past rejections, despite your inner disharmony. At present, you are losing this war. Stop. Use that internal fire not to fight your emotional self, but instead to drive yourself forward."

I opened my mouth and then closed it.

"Does this carry an element of truth for you?" she asked.

"I, uh, I don't know. Maybe."

"Perhaps this internal war is more a war of self. You have to reconcile your true self, who you are, against who you want to be, against who you believe you are. And vice versa."

"You mean a size 6?"

She laughed, "Not quite like that. I mean coming to terms with who you really are, and who you wish you were but will never be."

My smile fell from my lips.

"This next card," she continued with a little nod, "represents friends and family, your influence upon them and theirs upon you." The card she turned over was The Moon. "Something in your life is not what it seems. Perhaps a misunderstanding on your part, or a truth you cannot admit to yourself. It may also indicate something important being kept from you by another. Moon is a strong indicator that you must rely on your intuition to see through the deceit. Even if that deceit is just the self-denial that resides within yourself."

"How can I tell which?"

She smiled serenely. "By listening to your inner voice. Letting it guide you. We've already established you are someone will a good sense of inner intuition. Lean into it now, more than ever."

She turned over the second to last card: The Judgement. An angel was protruding from white clouds, trumpeting into a horn, while naked people below stood knee deep in the ocean, their arms open in supplication, awaiting judgement. A spooky image, that was for sure.

"The significance of having so many major arcana cards appearing in this hand, should not be ignored."

I had no idea what she meant exactly, but I made an agreeable sound as if it made complete sense.

She laughed softly. "It means that something big or transitory is about to occur in your life. Perhaps within the next six months. And this card," she said, tapping The Judgement card. "This card represents your inner emotions. Judgement speaks to transition in your life. Something is looming, perhaps due to some deceit or great change, as we've seen indicated in previous cards. There is something big coming on the horizon. Some sort of upheaval or decision."

"Is that as specific as you can get?"

She nodded. "For now. I think it's up to you to find the specifics and how they apply."

She took my hand then and placed it over the final card. "This last card represents the final outcome. Are you ready to see it?"

"I think so." A low thrill of fear ran through me. I really hadn't expected to get so involved in this, but here I was along for the ride. I turned over the final card and her expression froze.

"What is it? Is it bad?" I asked. The air around me seemed to stand still.

"This card doesn't appear very often," she responded carefully. She pursed her lips a moment, before continuing: "Particularly in this position."

"What does it mean?" It couldn't be good. No way could that be good. The card depicted a corpse face down in the dirt. Ten bloody swords stabbed into his back.

"Rock bottom. Utter defeat."

My breath caught, choked, in my throat. "What?"

"Complete ruination," she said and clasped my hand gently. "You will be cut to the quick in all, in perhaps every facet of life. You are in danger."

"What do you mean? What sort of danger?"

She kept her gaze trained on the cards, as if attempting to glean more meaning. "A complete sort of danger."

"How can I avoid it?" A rational voice inside me told me this was just claptrap and not to put too much stock in her words… but it was hard not to. Hard not to be ensnared by her low, dulcet tones, ensnared by the atmosphere of the shop, by the ghastly images of the cards.

"See the black sky and how it graduates to the early rays of sunrise near the horizon?" She pointed to the image on the card. "This card is a bad omen, yes, but we must recognize that upon reaching rock bottom the only way is up."

She held my gaze for a long moment and smiled, but her final positive platitude rang false. I could hear from her thoughts how bad she thought this was. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes either.

"What can I do?" I said, voice low.

"That I cannot tell you."

"Is it due to my current circumstances?" Was this trip to Oklahoma City going to be a fatal mistake?

"I cannot say, but judging by the rest of your hand, I'd say it relates to your work, perhaps affected by your past relationships. Are the two connected somehow?"

I let out a low, shaky laugh. Connected was putting it mildly.

"I'm here for work, sort of set up through my ex," I said.

She tapped the card where she had spoken about my hard work and striking out on my own. "Related to this work here? The bar you own?"

"No. I'm here on a… consultant role. Unrelated to my small business."

Her gaze turned inward with thought, eyes still trained on the cards. Her nails rapped lightly in rhythm on the table. "Hm… The cards seem to indicate it is to do with your small business. The work borne of your individual endeavors. Not this other work."

"What should I do? How do I help this?"

"That would require another reading." Ah. An extra fee. I sat up straight and tried to brush off the cloud of ominous feelings that had settled upon me. This was silly. I couldn't get caught up in this.

"Maybe another time."

"I hope I've answered some of your questions." she said.

I nodded and swallowed back the knot of dread in my throat. It was hard to tear my eyes away from the morbid image of the crudely drawn corpse on the card. I drew out a fifty dollar note and sat it on the table. She deftly pocketed the cash.

"I have questions not related to myself. But related to the work I'm in Oklahoma for," I said.

"Is it related to this?" She lifted my hand to examine the blisters on my fingers. She brought her nose to the tips. "Magic."

I'd washed my hands several times in the interim since receiving the injury but somehow I still wasn't surprised that the lingering presence of magic persisted.

I carefully extracted my hand from hers and retrieved the tablet computer from my big purse. This was what I was here to do, but my memory was fuzzy even now. I was here to show her some evidence on my tablet. Here to gain some sort of knowledge. A lead in a certain direction. It was just that the specifics were all muddy. I could feel I was forgetting something, that there was some sort of spell or magic was causing it. But what I did remember was that this morning before leaving the palace I had recorded what I'd forgotten on my tablet. I'd captured some sort of proof. A picture.

"Do you have any experience with wards? Or, specifically, breaking them?" I asked. I opened the photo gallery; the first image was of a padlock on a small shack in the woods. My memory flooded back, like a dam coming unstuck. What I had done that morning was enter the border forest and force my way, step by step, to the hut and taken a photo of it. A visual reminder of its existence. Of its magic.

The moment she saw the picture her demeanor changed. From a gentle passivity to a snake uncoiling, ready to strike. She grasped my hand tightly, fingers tight and bruising my wrist.

"Who are you?" she snarled. She stood, dragging me to my feet. "Who showed you this?"

Her mind, previously open, now slammed shut like automatic security doors snapping into place.

"I'm Sookie Stackhouse. I've been hired to find-"

Her face morphed from anger to one of alarm. "David!" she cried.

And with the next blink a man appeared standing beside her, his mental and physical existence bursting into my mind like an unexpected thunderclap. It was like how fairies popped but somehow this was violent. Magic hung in the air, crackled and stank.

"Mistress," he said. David was short, so thin he was practically emaciated, his eyes milky white and cornflower blue. Blind.

"This young woman has been poking around with our work at the Queen's estate. She's asking about breaking wards."

David turned his unseeing gaze to me.

"What are you?" he asked. "You are something… something other."

"No, no! You don't understand. I'm here working on behalf of the Queen."

"Unlikely," Morwenna snapped. "She wouldn't send you here without warning. Tie her up," she said to David. "There are some hours until darkness. We will extract what we can from her."

The word sprang me to action. Extract. The word sent my mind headlong into awful past memories. Of being locked in a shack with terrible faeries. The night of that capture… the torture. In another shack, hidden in another forest, some years ago. Blood everywhere, mindless mind-altering pain. Memories I had made habit of suppressing. I kicked out at the witch and twisted my wrist from her grasp. She leaped toward me but I pushed the table in her way, scattering the tarot cards everywhere. I fled the room, back out through the store. I made for the door but David materialized in front of me, cutting me off.

"Stop her!" I heard Morwenna cry from behind me. David's lips moved in some silent chant, and in panic, I tried to push him out of the way. But I heard a distant crack and a buzz. The next moment, I collapsed to the ground, my body erupting with pain. I screamed, unable to move, unable to control the seizing of my muscles. David, stood above me, taser in his hand his face pulling into a triumphant grin. Long wires protruded from the device and snaked down to attach to the front of my shirt and the skin of my chest. I was immobile, wracked with pain.

A taser. Why use magic when traditional methods worked just as well?

"Excellent," said Morwenna, I heard her footfalls come to a standstill behind my head. "Tie her up in the prayer room. Gag her. We can't have her alerting our patrons."

"Yes, mistress."

The buzzing of the taser stopped, as did the screaming muscle pain. I groaned in relief and shifted my body, feeling utterly limp. I forced myself to move, to try and get up. but David looked at me pointedly with his unseeing eyes. It was eerie. It was like he could see me without seeing me. Maybe he had some sort of magically enhanced vision. He lifted the taser gun and grimly made a show of fingering the trigger. I got the sense that while he didn't particular like hurting people, he would do what was necessary. In some ways that was worse.

I sighed and slumped back in defeat.

•──── ─────•

"How did you get through the wards?"

"With difficulty." I managed to laugh, though my voice was scratchy from screaming during the earlier taser attack.

Morwenna tutted and crouched in front of me. I was tied up to a chair in much the same way poor Dylan the donor had been the day before.

"You touched my mind before," she said calmly. "How?"

"I'm a telepath," I croaked. I brushed against her mind again and she flinched, somehow closing her brain off from me.

"Stop that," she ordered. "Now tell me why you were at the palace." She stood and began pacing, arms crossed against her chest, chewing on her thumbnail.

"The Queen hired me to find something."

Morwenna stopped mid-step and faced me, her features twisted in frustration and anger. "You're lying!"

Her eyes were dark as pitch, her hair billowing in an unseen breeze. David twisted my hand back against the binding holding my wrist until the angle was 30 degrees past natural. I gritted my teeth, choking back my groan.

"How can you even remember the forest?" David said. "The magic we laid upon the ground there… Is substantial."

"I can't remember," I panted, trying to twist my hand against his hold. Dear Lord, it hurt so freaking much. I bit down on my tongue, trying my hardest not to weep, moan, make any sound. "But I think… I think," I panted, "I've been there twice. The first time, I burned my fingers trying to open the padlock. That's how I knew I'd done something, been somewhere that I couldn't recall. I saw the burns and it made me think back on what I'd done, but as soon as I starting thinking about it, I start forgetting."

"I told you hexing the lock was too much," David said to Morwenna.

"This should be a non-issue," she growled in reply. "I was thorough with the spell of Mnemosyne's Veil. She should not have recalled anything all, burnt or not."

"I thought maybe I got burnt because it was iron," I said. I had wondered if it was the fairy in me reacting with the metal, though I couldn't make sense of how, since I'd come into contact with iron countless times in recent memory with no issue.

They ignored me, although David twisted my hand even further. "I'm talking," I cried, "Please - I'm talking."

"So continue."

"The second time," I continued when his grip lessened, "This morning, I think, I was smart enough to write notes and takes photos. I still forgot until I saw the photos I left for myself."

"Her telepathy must interfere with the memory spell. Maybe we should supersize it, make her forget everything entirely… Set her loose," David said.

"No, no," Morwenna said with the shake of her head. "The Queen needs to be informed. She could very well be hired." She turned and gave David a stressed look. "We also need to inform you-know-who."

My eyes darted between the two of them, my mind moving just as quickly between the two. Who exactly were they talking about? Whatever they were doing with their minds, they were closed to me. Maybe they were talking about Voldemort? They were witches, after all. I swallowed back a hysterical laugh.

Morwenna crossed the room to a small side table, lightly running her fingers across the rows and rows of small glass tincture jars. She finally clasped hold of a jar and stepped back to me. Grabbing me firmly by the jaw, she forced my mouth open. The last thing I remembered was the taste of some bitter and foul brown liquid on my tongue and her words: "Time to sleep…"

A/N: In three days, I'm going overseas for three weeks. I'll endeavor to continue posting as per schedule, but depending on how busy I'll be and my internet access I may not be able to keep up with my usual two chapters per week. The plan so far is to have the chapters uploaded and ready to go, I'll just need to proofread and post. (Apologies, if it doesn't work out that smoothly.)