Regular updates are part of my new year's resolutions this year. Thanks to Nomercy Sedia for letting me know I was missed. A rewritten version of each of the previous chapters will be updated soon, as they have pretty horrible mistakes in them. But I thought I would give you a little bit of a taste of what's to come first. So here ya go!
None of Tamora Pierce's works belong to me, all original characters and ideas: Garian Salmalin for example and the Children of Wratha, belong to me and should not be used.
Not far away from where the partygoers had been so rudely interrupted, a group of tall, lanky males crouched around a small, round table in the upper story of a darkened inn. A flickering lamp sat in the middle of the table, the only light in the crowded quarters.
"Do you think it so wise," asked the tallest man, his boots propped up on a nearby stool, " to send Hagen on his own? Who knows what might happen? He is an unpredictable element and in this sort of game..." His hands in his lap clenched hard, his knuckles whitening in the dark. " We can afford no wild cards." He spoke in a rich, flowing form of Scanran, with a grating accent that resounded about the room like the beating of a drum.
" Hagen is a tool, nothing more." came a snarl from a redheaded man in the corner. " His usefulness has run it's course and it was better put him to one last use before he was ... expired." The men all made noises of agreement in the back of their throats, and the few with drinks took large swallows, as if to toast his dark words.
" If they kill him," he explained slowly, " good for us, we get a martyr and they get nothing. If they interrogate him, we know exactly the stories he will feed them and if they throw him back at us, we get a returning hero and the knowledge of the faces of our enemy." Spreading his hands expressively, he grinned madly. " All in all, my children, it is a good night for all of us."
Sliding to his feet, he rested a black-gloved hand on the shoulder of the first speaker. " Get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow and you wouldn't want to miss it." Laughing darkly, he opened to door and was swallowed up in the darkness outside.
Trisana gazed out of the window of her room on Cheeseman Street. The gardens below bloomed in the bright sun of the new day. It had only been a day since the disastrous ball and she felt on edge, expecting the houses down the lane to burst into flames, or for the dragons and metal birds of the Tortallan kingdoms to swoop down and terrorize the people of Emelan.
Sighing she turned and sank downwards, her head resting against the windowsill. She stared at the embroidered hanging on her wall. It was the same one Sandry had gifted to her, so many years ago in Discipline. Sandry had asked her to take it down, let her make something new in its place, but Tris had refused. It represented more to her than anything she had acquired on her numerous travels. Except perhaps Chime and ...
Tris jumped to her feet. Today she was supposed to visit Glaki at Winding circle. Her young student had blossomed under the guidance of the Winding Circle teachers, but Tris visited often, as much as once a week, as her bond with the young girl had survived their separation. This visit would serve two purposes as Sandry had planned to bring the visitors to Winding Circle, along with their newly acquired Scanran prisoner and see if they could get any more answers from him with Niko and Moonstream's help.
Grabbing a book of prodigy child mages, which she had promised Glaki, Trisana ran down the stairs and called to her brother and sisters as she went. Soon Daja, Briar and Tris were on route to Winding Circle, with Sandry promising to follow quickly after she arranged transport for their new Tortallan allies and their sulky Tortallan prisoner.
Glakisa Irakory sat on the roof of Discipline Cottage, much as her idol said she used to in bygone days. Tris was late, as per usual, and Glaki passed the time watching the scuttling of clouds across the sky. She couldn't wait to talk to the girl she viewed as her older sister, and if she remember Now 11, Glakisa was considered much to curious and rambunctious for her own good, and often drove Rosethorn to wild rantings and Lark to subdued to silence. Peering over the edge of the roof, she could just make out three figures ambling towards the gardens. Shrieking with delight, as young girls are prone to, she quickly descended from the roof and went to inform Rose and Lark of the incoming visitors.
Briar fidgeted with his sleeves as they neared the cottage. " Oh stop fooling around chufflebrain," remarked Daja laughingly, " every time we come here you expect her to bite your head off over something or another, and has never yet had reason to, so stop worrying already." Briar scowled back at her in response.
" Being here makes me feel like a lad again, and that is one thing I do not enjoy. You're lucky. Frostpine never threatened to skin you alive and feed you to the crows if you mixed up his tools." He shuddered mockingly. " I pity the young bleaters who have to live there. I'm not entirely sure how I survived without parting company with my head."
"No head? That would be a major improvement to your current state. In fact, I'm not sure you would notice if you were headless. I certainly wouldn't miss it." Tris grinned as Briar glared at her. He often made remarks about how he was glad to be out of Winding Circle, but she knew he missed it as keenly as they did. After 5 years, she had finally gotten used to their home at Cheeseman Street, and she had been there less than them, away for several years at Lightsbridge, only to return for holidays and breaks. She still missed the little cozy cottage though, and more especially, the people that owned it.
As she mused, a fluffy headed girl came tumbling out of the front door and running along the path towards her. Grinning Tris bent down slightly as the young girl drove into her arms. She missed her, and found Glaki a constant source of enjoyment. As the girl had aged, Tris found herself generating a larger sense of being old and mature. She wasn't entirely sure she enjoyed the feeling.
"Hey there Glaki. I brought that book I promised." Digging it out of her satchel, she passed it to the girl who squealed again and ran with just as much excitement back into the house. Tris rolled her eyes at that. Glakisa was at the age where anything was 'magical' or 'beautiful' and was used to her dramatic outbursts of energy.
Briar raised his eyebrows at her. " You taught that... creature? I find it hard to believe stodgy old Trisana taught that energy ball anything! I can just picture you as a miniature Rosethorn, crabby and snapping at her every move." Tris stuck her tongue out at him and remained silent. There had been a few snappy moments but her foster brother didn't need to know that. Briar's own ex-student was away, visiting a Namornese mage who apparently had studied the hearts of mountains. If she didn't know better, she bet he had his own Rosethorn moments with her as well.
Inside they greeted their foster mothers with hugs and smiles and much more squealing from Glaki. She hovered next to Tris and chattered away about what she had missed that week and wasn't she glad to see Glaki and was the book and good and where was Sandry exactly? Tris laughed at her and ruffled her fluffy hair. Lark raised an eyebrow however and gestured for them to sit down at the table.
" Where is Sandry? I haven't seen her for what seems like an age. You three without her, now that seems a little odd." Tris, Briar and Daja all shared similar looks of worry and apprehension, before pulling out a chair for her at the table.
" You might want to be the one to sit Lark, and Rosethorn as well. This may take awhile." As Glaki ran to get Rosethorn from her workshop, Lark sat down hard. She knew these young people and their words offered no comfort to her. If they were worried at all, she might as well be in a panic.
A little long of a chapter this time! Hope you like! R& R please. Critiques are appreciated, mindless dissing is not. I was pretty sure Glaki was a blonde, but I don't own a copy of shatterglass. Can someone let me know if I was correct in that? Thank you!
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