>>6207719>>6207908>>6207839>Skip townOne part of you says: don't listen to <span class="mu-i">Monty.</span> What does he know? He's been trying to kick you out since you got here. Think about Margo and those stupid recommendation letters. Think about the strangling. He's probably in cahoots with Lucky, and the instant you try and escape you'll be gagged and bundled off to God-knows-where. And that'll be it for you.
Another part of you says: Escape? Of course you'd try to escape, you coward, you villain. Of course you were a multiple-murderer as soon as you drowned. What else would you be? You're broken. You're wrong. It runs in your blood, or worse than that— it's your unbreakable destiny. If Richard is right, you are and were and will be God, and what is God, exactly? A hideous, callous, evil, blood-drinking world-ending snake-thing? That's you. Maybe it'd be better off if Lucky arrested you. Maybe he could kill you and put an end to this for good.
But the third part of you says: Shut up. That's stupid. All of that's stupid. You're not like that anymore, and you don't believe that anymore, and maybe you'll be God, maybe, maybe, but who says you'll be the Wyrm? Richard said you'd throttle the Wyrm. You have to think positive about that. And... and it's not like you'd be leaving forever. Monty says he wants to help. He said you'd be back as soon as possible. You could keep your tent, even. So it's more like a vacation, a voluntary vacation, and is that so bad? At least you wouldn't have to wake up next to the traitorous <span class="mu-i">Horse Face</span> every single day.
That, and if Richard lied about not turning you into a lizard, at least you could do it somewhere private. You really, really don't want to answer questions about that.
You look Monty in the eyes. "Okay."
He's taken aback. He must've been expecting a knock-down, drag-out tussle about this, and you guess you can see why he'd expect that. He doesn't know what kind of day you've had, after all. "I... that's wonderful. Er, not wonderful. Of course I'd rather not have to resort to this. But I— I'm glad you see reason."
"You don't have to rub it in."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I, er— thank you, Charlotte." He taps the desk. "I suggest you pack and leave as soon as possible."
"Can I talk to anybody first?"
"...If you have urgent business. I'm not sure I'd recommend it, but you're a grown woman. You can decide how much personal risk to take. Be discreet, though. And... don't tell them you're leaving, if you can help it."
"Can I talk to anybody <span class="mu-i">after</span> I leave?"
"If you think you can do it under Lucky's nose. I'm sure he'll be turning over every stone here for the next few weeks. Wait a few days, hard minimum, is my recommendation. I'd like to know you're safe, personally, but not in a way that'd endanger you more. Actually, I'm sure quite a few people would like to know you're safe."
(1/3)
