The vast majority of our humor happens spontaneously. It's often found during gisting and outlining - yeah, two different processes lol - so it could be argued that we also have a lot planned out before I open a new Word file.
This one was planned.
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The boy nodded, a sudden confidence of resolve seeming to take him. “You do that. Come back with him. I’ll get a horse ready for you. But be quick. Zephan will be back soon.”
Cian gave the boy a grateful smile and slipped back outside into the courtyard where once again people were too busy on their own business to pay him much heed. This would be so much easier in the dark. Now, he just needed to find the dungeons and break Etienne out somehow.
To quote Jessie, sure, and then monkeys would fly out of his butt. How was he supposed to do all that, and with any alacrity? There were surely going to be guards down there. Guards with weapons, and all he had was a bit of glamour and his wits.
That’d have to do. He could do this.
They were both going to die.
A scent reached his nose and he looked around. Was something on fire?
A hand clamped down over Cian’s mouth, stifling his cry of surprise. It smelled of blood and smoke and it stung the split at the corner of his lip. He grabbed the arm and tried to jerk the body it was attached to over his hip in a Judo throw that Jessie had taught him, only to have his legs swept out from under him, the strong arm pulling him to the ground behind a line of trash barrels.
Etienne crouched over him, soot in his auburn hair. Cian could have kissed him.
Etienne held his fingers to his lips, eyes scanning the courtyard for witnesses that never materialized, and then looked down at Cian. Rage sparked in his gray eyes as he took in the rising bruises on Cian’s face, the way the split had again begun to seep. He reached out and brushed his thumb over Cian’s lip, making him shiver, and then over his hair, soothing and checking all in a single motion.
Cian would gladly have taken another beating if Etienne would touch him like that again.
Etienne raised up in his crouch and gestured for Cian to follow him. Cian followed the faerie knight’s gaze and realized he wanted to try for the citadel gate.
No, that wouldn’t do. They needed a horse. He shook his head, grabbed Etienne by the belt to stop him, and his hands flowed into motion like Winter had taught him, combining what signs he knew with finger spelling. “No, this way.”
Etienne shook his head. He either didn’t agree or he didn’t understand. Why the hell did Etienne think he had a monopoly on being right?
Cian’s jaw tensed and he pointed toward the stables. “We need to go there.”
Etienne shook his head and pulled at Cian’s arm.
Cian pulled out of his grasp. “S.T.A.B.L.E.”
Etienne pointed emphatically toward the gate, gave Cian a little shake, and then tapped his wrist with two fingers. They were running out of time.
Cian couldn’t agree more. He stood up, signing as he rose. “Look, idiot—”
“Hey!” The sound was out of Etienne’s mouth before he could catch it, and he cringed with alarm. Finally, a sign he knew. One of Jessie’s favorites.
Cian cringed, too. He joined Etienne in scanning the courtyard from behind the barrels, but nobody seemed to have overheard. Instead, there seemed to be people moving in groups toward one corner of the courtyard, away from the stable. Smoke was rising from a doorway there. Cian turned back to Etienne and gave him a smack on the shoulder. “H.O.R.S.E. D.A.M.M.I.T.” He pointed back at the stable with an emphatic hand.
Etienne frowned and whispered, “We don’t have time to saddle and steal a horse. We need to leave now.”
Cian wanted to throttle him, but they would have to escape for him to get the chance. “No, it’s already saddled. Just get your ass to the stables. Now.”
Etienne looked surprised.
Cian gave him a dirty look, but turned in the direction of the stable, fully expecting Etienne to follow him.
Auror
