Sorry for the pathetically short and absolutely plotless chapter, it
was the only way I could update before Thanksgiving. Of course, the setting
and some characters belong to Tamora Pierce etc.
Stella crept quietly back to her room and burrowed under the covers. She was horribly tired and fell asleep almost instantly.
She woke from her nightmare sweating and shaking. She tossed the covers off her body and tiptoed to the window. It was early morning; the sunrise was just beginning to appear over the tree tops. But Stella couldn't shake away the dark images of the previous night. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the man's eyes again, or his terrible, unnatural teeth.
She dressed quickly and walked out to see Pinecone again. He was as comforting as he had been the night before. While she was in the stables, she noticed something strange: the pillar that had been burning the night before looked completely untouched, as though it had never been on fire. She stared at it for a few minutes, and then looked down at her hand. The cut was still there, and her hand was painful this morning.
Half an hour later she returned to her room, thinking that she should not leave her young charge alone for so long.
"I'm hungry," he announced as she entered the room.
"All right," she sighed. She had wanted to rush out of town but she knew they should eat something first and probably buy supplies. "Get dressed and I'll call for breakfast."
Their laundry came with the fresh rolls, pears, and ham. Stella found she had forgotten what clean clothes smelled like. She packed their things immediately after breakfast. Then she settled the bill and they went out to saddle the horses.
"What's that on your hand?" Lord Lucas was pointing to her cut.
"I'll explain when we're on the road," she muttered, and he shot her a look but didn't say anything.
They rode to the market, and Stella bought blankets, dried meat, a small pot, a few apples, bread, and, getting a sudden idea, some sugar. The saddle packs were bulging when she had finished, but she thought they could travel for a few weeks without stopping for supplies again.
"Now will you tell me about your hand?" her traveling companion whined after they had ridden a few hours. So Stella told him quickly, it was against her better judgment, but she needed to tell someone and the only person around was an imperious seven-year-old. He listened, wide eyed and quiet and he didn't say much until dinner time.
That night she tried something new; she chopped up apples and put them in a pan with breadcrumbs, butter, and sugar. She had realized that she missed hot food and it was so cold that night. Lord Lucas liked it so much that he offered to clean up camp the next morning if she would make it again. Ha ha, she thought to herself, I have power.
That night she was glad she brought the extra blankets as soft wet snowflakes fell to the ground. The days only grew colder after that, and it got darker sooner, but a compulsion had taken over Stella. She didn't know what was pulling her-for it was a pull now, not a push from within-but SOMETHING most certainly was. She stopped later and later each night, despite the dark and the cold, and she woke earlier and earlier each morning. Pinecone too seemed to sense it, no matter what the weather was- and the winter was setting in early and harsh-he was impatient to be off every morning. Lord Locus was not impatient and would have liked more sleep, but he was pulled inevitably along.
Stella heard whispers now too, urging her onwards. "Hurry, hurry!" they would say, or "Keep moving." And she would listen to them. When she woke up she would feel that she had forgotten something important and would desperately scrabble after her dream, only to have it slip away.
Quote: "I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy each and every moment of it."
Hopefully I will be able to post another chapter after Thanksgiving break, I'll try to work on writing it in between loads of dishes. Have a great holiday and please review.
Stella crept quietly back to her room and burrowed under the covers. She was horribly tired and fell asleep almost instantly.
She woke from her nightmare sweating and shaking. She tossed the covers off her body and tiptoed to the window. It was early morning; the sunrise was just beginning to appear over the tree tops. But Stella couldn't shake away the dark images of the previous night. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the man's eyes again, or his terrible, unnatural teeth.
She dressed quickly and walked out to see Pinecone again. He was as comforting as he had been the night before. While she was in the stables, she noticed something strange: the pillar that had been burning the night before looked completely untouched, as though it had never been on fire. She stared at it for a few minutes, and then looked down at her hand. The cut was still there, and her hand was painful this morning.
Half an hour later she returned to her room, thinking that she should not leave her young charge alone for so long.
"I'm hungry," he announced as she entered the room.
"All right," she sighed. She had wanted to rush out of town but she knew they should eat something first and probably buy supplies. "Get dressed and I'll call for breakfast."
Their laundry came with the fresh rolls, pears, and ham. Stella found she had forgotten what clean clothes smelled like. She packed their things immediately after breakfast. Then she settled the bill and they went out to saddle the horses.
"What's that on your hand?" Lord Lucas was pointing to her cut.
"I'll explain when we're on the road," she muttered, and he shot her a look but didn't say anything.
They rode to the market, and Stella bought blankets, dried meat, a small pot, a few apples, bread, and, getting a sudden idea, some sugar. The saddle packs were bulging when she had finished, but she thought they could travel for a few weeks without stopping for supplies again.
"Now will you tell me about your hand?" her traveling companion whined after they had ridden a few hours. So Stella told him quickly, it was against her better judgment, but she needed to tell someone and the only person around was an imperious seven-year-old. He listened, wide eyed and quiet and he didn't say much until dinner time.
That night she tried something new; she chopped up apples and put them in a pan with breadcrumbs, butter, and sugar. She had realized that she missed hot food and it was so cold that night. Lord Lucas liked it so much that he offered to clean up camp the next morning if she would make it again. Ha ha, she thought to herself, I have power.
That night she was glad she brought the extra blankets as soft wet snowflakes fell to the ground. The days only grew colder after that, and it got darker sooner, but a compulsion had taken over Stella. She didn't know what was pulling her-for it was a pull now, not a push from within-but SOMETHING most certainly was. She stopped later and later each night, despite the dark and the cold, and she woke earlier and earlier each morning. Pinecone too seemed to sense it, no matter what the weather was- and the winter was setting in early and harsh-he was impatient to be off every morning. Lord Locus was not impatient and would have liked more sleep, but he was pulled inevitably along.
Stella heard whispers now too, urging her onwards. "Hurry, hurry!" they would say, or "Keep moving." And she would listen to them. When she woke up she would feel that she had forgotten something important and would desperately scrabble after her dream, only to have it slip away.
Quote: "I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy each and every moment of it."
Hopefully I will be able to post another chapter after Thanksgiving break, I'll try to work on writing it in between loads of dishes. Have a great holiday and please review.