At 12:01 AM, the door squeaked open and a guard poked his head into the dark prison cell. He scanned the room slowly with a torch, until his gaze landed on the sleeping prisoner.
“Master?” called the guard softly.
The prisoner stirred, sat up, and looked at the guard.
“Master, I—” started the guard, but he broke off with a strangled gasp.
Frank waved at him from the prison bed.
The guard turned to run, but Notation stepped into the doorway holding a large crossbow.
“I . . . I was just doing my rounds,” said the guard.
Frank grunted a laugh and shook his head. “Hand over the torch. Slowly,” he instructed. “My friend here just graduated from the police academy, and I’m told she scored top marks in crossbow usage.”
“I was ...