Terry could feel anger beginningto rise in his chest. He had no awareness that his hair was beginning tocascade like water, pouring out of his scalp a...d thickening down to hisshoulders.His rage prevented him from seeing anything but that face, still staringat him, expressionless. But even if he had kept his cool, how could hehave known? What possible clue could he have observed that would havetold him that he was playing right into this girl's plan?He couldn't have known. He would realize that. I have no idea whether it's actually Latin, but it is my new motto. From books, salvation. Or more accurately in my case, from the library, salvation. A lot of people find solace in the library; heck, I'd found some pretty good solace in the library myself the day after Christmas. But salvation? That was a lot harder.Since Monday was a day off, for the students anyway, I decided to return the three library books I'd checked out, all of which were due on the following day. At the same time, I. "Would you like to have him now? Take him to the dungeon and do what you want with him then we'll have him serve tea afterwards." Mistress had a basement room in her house she'd fitted out for training and disciplining her slaves.The woman didn't really reply but just shifted her enormous bulk with a grunt and grabbing me by the hair pulled me roughly after her. She obviously knew the way. There was no way I was going to be able to resist either, she could overpower me easily. Resistance was. This was it. Letting out a deep breath, she exited her vehicle and made her way through the courtyard to the first square building, her first day of kindergarten all over again. *** Something was off about the class. She felt it from the start but just couldn’t put her finger on exactly what was wrong, on exactly what was tapping the back of her skull, signaling her discomfort, trying to get her attention. She had some ideas on what it might be. She supposed a few things, actually. One: they.