Snippets

Chapter 3

"Thank you for coming in today, Logis."

The familiar voice curdles my blood, as usual, but I smile despite myself, urging some life into my tone, "Of course, mother."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, did you catch all that, Logis my son?"

"Yes, mother, it is the girl by the name of Shaffron Ziliach, though her true name you have not yet found. She is currently dispatched in the town of Fallohn, where she sings for the bazaar. I am to find her and bring her to Thalia so that you may make less the threat she presently presents."

Kiza smiles maliciously, "Indeed, my son. Now be quick about it, you need to be to my station in Fallohn before she arrives. Do you have the Ember?"

I tap the side of my head, "You have taught me well, mother. I will be there in time."

"Then be off. I will see you in Thalia, my son."

I bow to the black curtain, knowing full and well who and what is on the other side, before I locate the lighter shadow amid the darker surroundings and make my way toward it. The dark room behind me melts away as I pass through the lighter shadow into the dim lighting of the pub hallway.

I squint in the sudden light, my mind still spinning with Ember calculations. Fallohn is only twenty miles from Piubaport. That means I can get at least sixteen miles—

My rapid thoughts were interrupted by a cough from Padge. I look up, somewhat startled, to find her fist thrust toward my face, holding a single hair.

"Happy?" She asks, a stubborn smirk on her face, "I lightened up a hair."

A grungy haversack and canteen are thrust into my arms after I adjust the tie around my neck.

"Good luck out there," Padge says quietly, "Your mother and I will be waiting. Don't let this one fool you, she's apparently tougher than her appearance."

I nod my thanks, "I'll be careful, Padge, you don't need to worry about me. I've done this at least a thousand times."

"One can never be too careful, Logis." Padge warns mildly as she helps me settle the haversack over my shoulders, followed quickly by the canteen.

"Fair enough," I agree half-heartedly as I tie my nice dress shoes to the outside of the sack. I have already changed into a pair of nice dress pants and shirt, though I prefer my leather jacket over the show-coats most men wear around town. Walking in such modern wear makes me feel as if someone is constricting my air, or has put me in a straightjacket – not something I would exactly appreciate.

"I'll see you before you know it, daffodil," I promise Padge, smiling brightly at her.

"I'm counting on it," she replies, matching my smile. Before I can escape out the secret entrance of the Jarbangle pub, she rises onto her tiptoes and plants a soft kiss on my cheek.

"For the road," she says, a russet hue accenting her already blush-covered cheekbones.

I return her kiss with a giant hug, "For the stay," I reply, gingerly brushing my lips against the top of her head.

Before I know it, I'm crouching in the dingy lighting of an underground tunnel, crawling carefully to keep from dirtying my smart pants...

The journey to Fallohn is much shorter with the help of my mother's Ember, which dangles from my neck on a leather thong. Once I have walked two miles out of Piubaport on the dusty, harsh ruts this country calls roads, I jut off from the main foot-traffic (quite deserted, actually, ever since Belarme's loss of energy, the transport has been less than satisfactory) of this "highway." After clambering over the red boulders of the northern lands and sliding down the red shale of a steep precipice, I find myself in a gully, just as red as the scenery previously around me, though one courageous bush perches precariously on the mountain of shale, bravely thrusting its arms toward the sun in an effort to stay upright.

Glancing around to make sure I'm alone, I pull the thong over my head, automatically catching the small stone that clings to the strap. I hold the fire opal aloft toward the sun, much like the scrubby bush, and can't help but grin at what a sight I must make: a well-dressed man in his late twenties holding his arms aloft to the sky and grinning like a sick duck. Before I can wipe the smile from my face, my hand begins to feel very, very warm. Triumphantly, I close my hand over the opal, feeling the sharpness of its unpolished edges nip at my smooth skin.

Perhaps the ideas of getting down in the grit and really "embracing manhood," as my ex-girlfriend would tell me, weren't so bad after all. Lady-smooth hands really wouldn't do for a man of my stature.

I push the frivolous thoughts to the back of my mind as I clutch the opal to my chest, feeling my mother's power pulse into me as gentle shock waves through my body.

"Fallohn is fallen on by one such as me, to find her fate and destiny. The girl, not the city, shall then come with me, to Thalia then Saunderval 'til eternity."

The words come unbidden to my tongue, sent from my mother through the opal, or Ember as she prefers to call it.

The desert winds pick up around me, what a passerby would shrug of as simply an unusual gust, and the world fades away, growing smaller as I feel my body lift toward the sun. The heat becomes unbearable, as usual, and I find myself gritting my teeth as I feel blisters boil beneath my skin. I look down, watching the world whip by from the height of the clouds. Sixteen miles is over in less than six seconds, and with crushing reality I find myself back on the red ground, dropping to my knees in exhaustion. Sweat drenches my shirt and jacket, and I wince as I push myself off of the ground, already feeling one of the blisters on my shoulder burst and drain down my back.

Disgusting.

But if things go as planned, I'll be able to get a few moments' peace in the pub at Fallohn before the planned meeting.

Looping the opal around my neck once more, I drop it between my skin and my shirt, hiding the scarlet-colored gem from prying eyes. It singes my skin and I wince slightly, remembering the odd allotment of scars my chest now boasts thanks to the rare stone.

Rolling my shoulders to loosen them and reaching for my canteen, I grimace at the frayed cotton strap that belies my otherwise decent outfit. My pants are slightly dusty, though not terribly so. Perhaps I should have come in my pub-wear. Memories of my one fateful-journey in pub-wear decide me otherwise and I whisk the dust off with the back of my palm before beginning the last leg of my journey toward Fallohn.

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ALAS! The update has finally arrived ._. my supreme apologies! As fellow writers, I believe you understand the balance between real life and writing time, and with all the emergencies and craziness that one must fit in between. So, it has been pointed out to me that I have been switching tenses for the last few chapters (one of my own pet peeves, I can't believe I've fallen to such a morbid dark side!)... so, I ask for your help in comments and suggestions on all of the chapters where I may  have wandered off the path. I think I have finally decided to go in present tense... so we'll see if I kept that through this chapter ;) 

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