A/n - This is going to be a very, VERY short chapter. Or maybe I'll add more, but I don't have much inspiration right now . . . I just felt like updating because it's been a while. Here's to my wonderful, wonderful reviewers:
TheFasterYouUpdateTheBetter - Thanks a lot! Yeah, it really is a pity that not many people know about the ST series. I mean, people know about Nix's other series, with Sabriel, Lirael and Abhorsen, but as for Seventh Tower, not many people read it. But it's a great series!
TheChickenWhoCrossedTheRoad - Love the review, love the welcome, love the fanfic, love the sn. This is your long-awaited second chapter and it sucks and is really really short, but I don't really care. Do you? Probably. But it is my story, after all. Lol.
Kewix - You're right, there aren't many people writing ST fanfics. I'm in a few different categories so far, and ST is the second smallest category (the smallest is Medical Investigation, which, by the way, is a great show). Thanks for the warm welcome, and I hope you like this chapter.
Fiona Chan - Well, 'what happens next' is a very broad category. But here's the next chapter, anyhow.
Holikimaela - Yes, you're quite good at following instructions :). Your AF fic was great, so why wouldn't I write a review? Duh. Geeze, some people just don't get it. You know what I just realised? 'Duh' and 'geeze' are not acceptable words in the English language. Which goes to show just how much WordPerfect 10 knows about slang. Honestly. You haven't read The Violet Keystone yet? You poor, underprivileged child. It was a great book. So I get the whole 'flashback' thing. It'll help you understand the plot better. I'll put some flashbacks into my later chapters, just for you. While I'm at it, you'd better go and track down the sixth book! Thanks a lot for the complements! Some people think that writers are all one and the same, that they all write similarly, but it's just not true. I mean, if Eric Wilson (the Tom and Liz Austen mysteries author) had the same voice as, say, Eoin Colfer, I'd shoot myself. I find it so difficult to get into some books, just because I don't like the way the author writes. It can be a brilliant story, have an ingenious plot, but if I don't like the 'voice' as you put it, it's the most boring story in the world. So I get where you're coming from, totally. And it means a lot to me to have someone say that to me. As for Tal's thoughts narrating the story: I looked back at the first chapter and saw that you're right! In this chapter I tried to have less Tal's thoughts and more Milla and Malen's. Anything else I should do to improve?
:Chapter Two:
Malen, the youngest Crone on the Ruin Ship, felt Milla's consciousness leaving the Ruin Ship. She was connected to the War-Chief in particular, due to the distressing events they'd both gone through seven months ago, and she could hear the young woman's angry thoughts as she packed her bags and left. Malen was wracked with indecision. Should she follow the girl, or stay behind and report to the Mother Crone? In haste, she called to the nearest Shield Madien and sent her off with the news of the War-Chief's departure. Then she ran to her quarters, her footsteps pounding on the golden metal of the ship.
Minutes later, she was rushing out the front entrance, pulling her outer furs around her and squinting through the swirling snow. A dark shape lurched through the drifts in front of her, forcing itself up the hill. She knew who it was, and followed swiftly, calling out in her mind.
Milla! MILLA!
The shape turned, and just as quickly turned back to her task, trying to move faster, but knowing that the older woman would catch up in only a matter of minutes. Her legs felt as heavy as rock, but she pressed on, hoping that Malen wouldn't catch up. If she did, and if she ordered Milla back to the Ruin Ship, Milla wouldn't be able to resist. The power of the Crones was stronger even than Milla's pain.
"Please," she gasped, turning to Malen as the Crone caught up with her. "Don't make me go back."
Malen leaned over, breathing hard. Milla's pace had been faster than she was used to, and she'd had to catch up.
"I didn't come to stop you," she said, once she'd regained her breath. "I want to come with you."
Milla gave her an almost appraising look, then she nodded.
"I'd be delighted if you came," she whispered.
Malen hefted her pack again, and the two of them set off together up the Mountain of Light.
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"I told you, Tal," Rerem sighed, staring down at his fourteen-year-old son with annoyance. "Just because you're the Emperor of the Chosen doesn't mean that you can skip out of school."
Tal looked up, running a hand through his brown and green hair. He didn't understand why his father was getting so upset about this. He'd only missed a few days, and those had only been because of CastleFolk feuds. He'd had to handle so many little fights between families, and friends, and not to mention the rogue Chosen and Underfolk he had to deal with every day. He was, in effect, overworked.
"Dad," he groaned, trying to pull the blankets of his bed back over his head. "I need a break. I've been working way too much. Being the 'Emperor' isn't a bundle of laughs and useless ceremonies, you know."
Rerem shook his head. His son had the most annoying habit of making him forget he should be mad. He pulled the blankets off of Tal's bed. It was time to be harsh.
"Tal, if you do not get out of bed in the next three seconds, I am going to dock your allowance and take away your Sunstone!"
"What?" Tal yelped, jumping out of bed in a rush. "You can't do that!"
"Watch me!" Rerem shouted back, pushing Tal bodily out of his room, while Tal yelled:
"NO! NO I'M NOT DRESSED!" He stopped abruptly when he saw his mother, Gref, Kusi, and (to his dismay) his mother's friends' daughter, Amma, sitting in the greeting room. They were all laughing at him. He glanced down at his half-naked form, then ran back into his room in embarrassment, slamming the door shut firmly behind him.
Rerem smiled as he watched his son bolt back into his room. Then he turned to the group of laughing people with fake confusion written over his face.
"Did I do something wrong?"
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Crow's body was still aching, his throat dry. He was being forced by his caretakers to pour bottle after bottle of Chosen sweetwater down his throat, but all he wanted was answers. Who was Pettoff? Why were they talking care of him? Why hadn't the caveroach poison killed him? Why would Sharrakor's minions want to hurt him now that Sharrakor was dead?
"Pettoff is our leader, little human," the raspy voice of the creature, whose name was Gonnarr, responded from an inner room of the canvas hut. "Pettoff was the one who found you. Pettoff thought you could live, so she brought you to me. I am the healer of the Guardians. We take care of everything and everyone injured or ill."
Crow regarded Gonnarr with interest. The Guardians, he'd said. It was a strange race, even by Aenir's standards. What type of a person — or creature, he reminded himself — would willingly care for any other? Gonnarr was a squat figure, with loads of bushy black hair and bright eyes that shone with a colour Crow had never seen before. He was vaguely humanoid, but there were some oddities that proved him to be of a different race. His head was too big, and his arms and legs were too long for his height. His mouth was quite wide, as though he was constantly smiling. He was smiling as he handed Crow yet another bottle of sweetwater.
"As to why the caveroach poison didn't kill you, well, we have many theories. The most persistant is that because you were in the Old Khamsoul, you couldn't be hurt. Khamsoul never likes anyone to be hurt within its walls."
"But it let Sharrakor die," Crow pointed out, taking a sip of the sweetwater and grimacing. I'm going to be sick if I have to drink any more of this, he thought grimly, but chugged it down, feeling it ease his parched throat. It might be disgusting, but it helped.
"Ah, but that's the thing, little carrion bird," Gonnarr grinned. "Sharrakor is not dead."
Crow wanted yell "WHAT!" but never got to. Instead, a swell of bile and acid surged up from his stomach, and his only response to the shocking news was to vomit spectacularly on the floor of Gonnarr's hut.
: End of Chapter Two :
A/N - I hope you all liked that chapter! It wasn't my greatest, but still!
Remember my instructions from last chapter? You don't? Ok then . . You see that little purple button down there? Yeah, that one. What does it say beside it? Report for possible abuse? That's NOT the one you want! Ok, go through the list until you find 'Submit Review.' Found it? Ok, now press GO. And review.
