Okay… said it. I feel bleh. I have a head cold that is just draining all conscious thought from my brain. I have a cough that won’t quit… I feel bleh!
Sorry, had to get that out of my head. Hope you all don’t mind.
Long story, short story… the whole story: I goofed off all weekend, cleaned house, played Minecraft, and had some family time. Now I’m hip deep in editing again, have started a full story-world bible to help me get a better grasp of my secondary characters and subplots, and I’ve added another two scenes to my Jayce and the Wheeled Warriors fanfiction.
I’m behind on my sponsor duties, and I missed my Sunday post (wish I could say I was sick then, but I really was just spacing). That’s alright. It was about being a Grinch anyway, and who needs a downer so close to the end of the year and all the holiday buzz?
So there’s not much to say here except “let’s do a…”
Simple maths today: 9 small paragraphs from Chapter 18 of Release:
It didn’t happen the way she’d said it would. Instead of a rush of strength outward, I was nearly crushed under the inrush of strength. For a minute I panicked, watching as Tam’s wife started to collapse against the altar, then checked myself and concentrated on blocking the channels she’d opened in my mind. As soon as the flow stopped, I rushed into the circle no longer caring if I followed the ritual or not.
Ellen looked up as I helped her from the stone to sit on the ground. “The firecall, Kieri. You have to do it,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
I swallowed, wanting to apologize so much for messing things up. “I can’t…”
“Won’t,” she whispered. “No healer could…” She caught her breath for a second, then forced her gaze on mine. “Please, try. For me. For Kara. The words… Tyrai mishæ naityru.”
I clenched my fist for a moment, then let my gaze turn toward the altar behind us. My senses felt hyper aware. Though I was at the wrong angle to see Kara’s body laying there, I could see her. I was aware of every one of the people around us, the exact kinds of trees that circled our clearing, the rabbit that nestled with her young in a burrow several yards away. Could I do what she wanted? She said I could. But what she’d told me to say sounded totally wrong when I said it.
Mouse’s words rang in my ears about what I was. I wasn’t Dantii. Hellfires, Daryl Vestimorn had been the Andar’s son and hadn’t been talented at all. What made me think that as Alanii Vestimiir’s grandson I’d be any better? I looked apologetically at Ellen and reached into my pocket for my lighter. Maybe I wasn’t a witch like my grandfather, but I could give Kara a flame to pass her to the world beyond by more mundane means.
Reaching into my pocket made me brush the hilt of the Heir’s blade. I knew as soon as I felt it; just like before, there was a soft voice in my head.
~Nai, Kieri. Trust your instincts. Those words are not for your kind. Say rather Atarmilshiinai atarnii vashiir.~
The mind touch had felt like that of a woman, not the male one I’d heard before. For a moment, I wondered if it had been Kara’s spirit. After all, she was dead. Secrets about me that I didn’t even know would be common knowledge for anybody beyond life.
Funerals are never happy affairs, but usually they don’t come with collapsing priestesses and magic knives to add to the ambiance. Kieri knows how to pick his venues, hm?
Many cheers and (non-physical) hugs to K.L. Schwengel for her bravery in fighting the forces of the internet and books that demand to be written for the sake of hosting WIPpet Wednesdays for us. Feel free to show your love (or not) by commenting and visiting other WIPpeteers here.