Broken 4 is in the editor's hands. Firebird 2 is finally coming along nicely. Unfortunately I don't have anything in the way of snippets from either of those to share with you guys, but I do have a small piece of another person's work for those looking for a distraction to get them to the weekend.
My sister is taking her first steps down the difficult road of being an author and sent me something and asked if it was any good. Something about the scene grabbed my interest and I told her as much.
Unfortunately, she doesn't believe me and thinks I'm being nice because I'm her sister. So it's time to throw her in the sea of hard knocks and let others see and interact with her creation. It's how I learned and developed as a writer so I thought it might prod her along.
Flavor wise, this would be similar to Pathfinder's Way but maybe a little darker.
P.S. I have my sister's permission to post. I'd never do something like this without it. I know how exciting and scary it is to let strangers read your work.
I hope you enjoy this short glimpse into an unfinished world. Caution: This has been through very little editing.
Short Scene:
Short, chubby legs and little grubby feet raced as fast as they could. A woman’s hand, clasped tight around my small fist dragged me onward. Always onward.
“Rest?” I remembered pleading.
Her head turned, her eyes finding mine. Long auburn hair trailed down her back in a heavy braid, wisps of gold and copper escaping to frame her face. A flash of impatience crossed her sun kissed features before she dragged me forward, ignoring my plea.
“Later,” she promised.
Time passed slowly, marked only by the pain under my ribs, increasing with every gasp and step. A carpet of needles softened our progress, the trees that had shed their weight giving silent testimony to our flight. From what, I could never remember. Twice I stumbled, the grip on my arm all but yanking it from my body.
“Up,” she hissed. “Quickly.”
Her voice, even when sharp, held a melodic quality that caressed my ears. Sometimes, when the wind dances before a thunderstorm, I could almost hear that melody. Almost.
A thwack sounded, something akin to flesh meeting wood. The woman stopped and looked around before slowly meeting my gaze again. Her hand left mine as she took several halting, jerking steps forward before collapsing to her knees where she remained, facing away from me.
Tentatively, I shuffled forward, distantly aware of the ache in my right ankle and the scrape along my left knee.
“Rest?” I whispered, confused by the sudden change.
I circled her body, keeping a tight path around her suddenly still figure. Something caught my foot and I reached out, grabbing her shoulder to steady myself.
Her eyes were unfocused, seeing far beyond my purview. I stepped closer, my young mind refusing to understand.
"Momma?” I questioned, my voice barely a breath.
Her gaze snapped to mine, sharp and piercing. “My Nyree.”
A cough interrupted, blood spurting forth to spray gently across my face. It was only then that I looked down, a glint catching my attention. Protruding from her chest was the tip of a double edged arrowhead. The shaft just barely visible.
“Be brave. Be strong.” A soft whistling noise escaped her lips. “Now run!”
She shoved me away from her before falling forward, face hidden among the debris on the forest floor.
I stood motionless for a moment, gazing down at her prone form before a sudden, sharp cracking filled me with liquid terror. Heeding her last warning, I dashed into the brush, fear spurring my legs to pump faster than before.
My memory came in flashes now--like the flickering of a candle at the end of its wick. The scenes of my panicked terror were caught in sharp relief in time to my labored breathing.
Glancing down, I saw my little legs, barely moving. It was as if someone had poured molten lead into my veins and watched it harden, laughing all the while at my pitiful attempts to flee.
In the end though, it hadn’t mattered. They caught me anyway.
