Vira held out one perfectly manicured hand. It was a façade but at least it was a pleasant one to look at before it was over, though there wasn’t any light to see by now. “I can still take us somewhere else. We can go somewhere nice.” Pin lay on the floor, one hand tucked under her head for comfort though it wasn’t comfortable at all. Her eyes were half open and her breathing labored. There wasn’t much air left in the little sealed room. “Then why not go? You said yourself, once I’m gone, you can leave just as easily as I breath.” She smiled at the joke. Vira knelt down next the Pin. “I do not wish to be alone, is all.” Pin continued to smile. “You can’t go without me.” Vira scowled. “You are over estimating your abilities, my little mess of a child. I can and I will leave without you. You will see.” Pin’s eyes slipped closed. “See. Yes, seeing is exactly what I will do, isn’t it?” “Ha … ha. You are dying. If I do nothing, you will die here.” With great effort, Pin rolled onto
It glittered like gold.
Well, okay, it was gold, so yes it glittered like what it was.
What? I’m not good at being poetic and stuff, okay?
Look, just trust me, it glittered really bright even for gold. And honestly, when you consider it was night and the small gold hand mirror was still sparkling, it was impressive. That gold mirror was what I’d been sent to steal.
Now I know what you’re thinking; why would someone send a eleven year old to steal a priceless gold mirror from some snooty elf lady? To that I answer why not? I’m capable. Plus, I’m eleven, so they’re more likely to go easy on me. They’
There is a feeling, a particular, unique feeling you get when something goes kaboom. It’s hard to explain exactly, but I think it has something to do with how close you were to the explosion when it happened.
When I broke into the stodgy old noble’s manor, I never expected to find myself in a strange room filled with barrels and barrels of fireworks. To be honest, I’d never much thought about where fireworks came from. I enjoyed them at new year’s over the bay in Mertia, but never really stopped to do more than that.
There I was, though, in a room with more fireworks than I thought existed in the whole world. They li
Isabelle looked down at her mother lying on the floor. They were so much alike. Same blonde hair. Same blue eyes. Both tall and thin.
Except Isabelle wasn’t a mage like her mother or sisters. She was the odd one out. The one that didn’t belong. A disgrace. A shame. A waste of her mother’s blood.
For a brief moment, the woman looked hopeful as her fourteen year old daughter stepped into the dark room deep underground. One of her children had dared the ruins to find what had become of their mother. One cared enough to find her. She wouldn’t die here alone.
Then she saw the knife in Isabelle’s hand. Heard the wh
The flames danced over the slowly dying fire, clinging to any part of the log not yet burned. The others were asleep.
Except Vira. She was awake, of course. Her kind didn’t sleep. Even if she did pretend. She was in the tree, looking like a beautiful woman propped against the trunk with one leg hanging down. A real person would have fallen out. Not her, though. That wasn’t even a real body, just a facade put up for the rest of us.
I stared at the fire clinging for life. There was no wood left to feed it. It would go out soon, not that we needed it. The night was warm and so far, we hadn’t encountered any danger
Now, don’t get the wrong idea. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe him or anything. It’s just that, you know, when someone claims they can tell everything about you just from touching a few items, you have to get proof. There’s just no way around that.
For my item, I picked a small copper ring made from a coin. I found it a few days ago in the gutter and while I wondered about it’s past, it had no connection to me. If the guy was legit, he’d know it wasn’t really mine. And if he was really legit, he’d know who it did belong to and maybe I could give it back to them.
Yeah, yeah, I
I held up the ripped blouse and bodice. At least I could reparable them this time. Why did my clothes always get ripped up in fights? Couldn’t people leave my innocent clothing alone? Do where you live have this problem or it is just me?
Thunk!
Ziane leapt off the inn bed. Her eyes were our resident scholar and demon companions sitting at the desk. Vira was going through Carsakin’s stuff, pretending to be a klutz. He was livid but trying not to keep calm, per usual.
“Shouldn’t we do something?” Ziane asked.
I shrugged, checking out a ripped seam. “Nope.”
“But…”
“H