MeiLin Miranda's Blog, page 10
August 21, 2013
Chapter 8 Episode 1 | The Machine God | The Drifting Isle Chronicles
The next day, Deviatka and Peter left for their tour; Corporal von Sülzle went with them at Berger’s insistence, leaving Wirtz behind to care for Adewole. At first he thought it was a bit much, a whole corporal to himself, but once he’d filled two packs with his dictionaries, reference books, blank books, notepads, inks and pens Adewole appreciated Wirtz’s help lugging it all over to the Library.
Mr. Buckan had set up the rare books room as an office. He gave Adewole a key. “You must keep it locked at all times, Professor, even when you are in here by yourself. The books in this room are invaluable, irreplaceable, as I’m sure you realize.” A lightcrystal brightened the room. A sole stool provided the only seating at the long trestle table.
“I’ll send a barrowman to East Camp for a proper chair, sir,” said Wirtz. “You deserve better than that.”
“It does not matter,” muttered Adewole absently, his attention focused on a single book, lying on a goathair felt pad atop the table. Its binding looked like old books he’d seen bound in ostrich leather, its raised bumps a dark, dull shine against a creamy background.
Judging by the covers, the books spanned some three hundred years. Most were bound in cow leather, and he assumed they were pre-Rising. Some were bound in something else—goatskin, according to Mr. Buckan. He indicated the sole book on the table. “This one is particularly fragile, sir. It is bound in frog leather. I, ah, I should not be letting you handle it.”
Adewole pulled on his cotton gloves, never taking his eyes off the thin book. “I shall be quite, quite gentle, I assure you.”
“Your gentleness was never at issue, sir,” murmured the librarian. Adewole looked up at the nervous tenor in the man’s voice, but he had already left the room.
August 13, 2013
Chapter 7 Episode 3 | The Machine God | The Drifting Isle Chronicles
The next day, Henrik Blessing arrived in a barrow.
The Dean’s legs couldn’t take him the three miles from East Camp to Town Hall. No pack animals had been brought up—no animals of any kind—and so nothing else could be done; Peter Oster chucked Blessing into a barrow and rolled him off down the road. “Thass no shame,” said the young man kindly. “We trundle our old ‘uns all round the island. None look amiss at ‘em.” By the time he got to Town Hall, Blessing had settled himself to look as if riding in a barrow conveyed a great honor.
August 6, 2013
Chapter 7 Episode 2 | The Machine God | The Drifting Isle Chronicles
“In service of knowledge, eh?” said Deviatka that night at dinner. They were still living in the Freys’ former stables, though it had been transformed. Quartermaster Jagels’s crew scrubbed the outbuilding so energetically the mortar between the stones nearly washed away. Ofira had caught every mouse in the vicinity, and politely spit her pellets into nearby compost heaps.
July 31, 2013
Chapter 7 Episode 1 | The Machine God | The Drifting Isle Chronicles
The formal diplomatic mission arrived a week after the landing; though the Risenton Council was offered a fact-finding mission of its own to Eisenstadt, all six declined in horror. The diplomats' arrival relieved Professor Adewole of most of his duties as translator; along with Ambassador Weil came a small cadre of Middle Rhendalian scholars. Adewole spent two weeks teaching them the Risenton dialect--some as he learned it himself--and by the middle of Juli he found himself more or less free to do as he wished. "I would very much appreciate having you on the island for consultation," said the Ambassador. "You still possess greater linguistic skills than the rest of the translation corps. While I almost understand the aristocracy here, the common people are near-incomprehensible."
Adewole assured her his fellow academics would soon be up to speed but he'd be delighted to stay, "especially if I might be granted access to the University of Risenton Library."
Councilwoman Lumburgher was in nominal charge of the University, and upon applying to her, Ambassador Weil was repelled. "I suggest you try directly, Professor," she said. "You have dealt with Henrik Blessing. I'm sure you can manage Imogen Lumburgher."
July 24, 2013
Chapter 6 Episode 2 | The Machine God | The Drifting Isle Chronicles
"Keep a sharp lookout, people, guns away for now," said Berger.
"Oster," called a Council member, an irritable-looking man in blue, "what are you doing here?"
Peter's face veiled itself in stupidity; he touched a knuckle to his forehead. "They landed in the turnip field, sir. Asked me to come with."
"And you let them? Who are you to let a gaggle of--of clearly deranged people onto my property!"
"Peter Oster, move off," called Captain Winston. "These are none of yours."
July 21, 2013
I'm home
#rewire2013 was a success, though I ended up staying a second night for pain management. I'm home now and Velvet Ackbar is taking care of me along with a bunch of wonderful friends. I'm very tired and won't be doing much for the next week at least but sleeping and hanging out. Thanks for all the good wishes people have sent. 
July 17, 2013
Chapter 6 Episode 1 | The Machine God | The Drifting Isle Chronicles
Risenton Road ran straight over almost flat country; any unevenness folded more like a wrinkle in a sheet than a hill. As they walked along, the roadside became less rural and more urban.
Within two hours, they entered the City. The buildings here were far, far older than anything they’d seen elsewhere on the island, or in Eisenstadt, where old buildings tended to be torn down and replaced. Soaring buttresses, arches and magnificent carvings reminded Adewole of the thousand-year-old cathedrals and palaces found on the Rhendalian plains, decorated with chiseled mottoes only scholars like Adewole could read these days—mottoes much like the ones he found inscribed all around him. Even among these ancient and impressive structures, newer cob buildings and larger ones of salvaged stone squatted in the margins, their roofs thatched and their few windows unglazed.
July 15, 2013
In Which I Am Rewired
Today is the last installment of Son in Sorrow. When a book ends serialization, it always brings me down--especially when the next book isn't ready. Book two wasn't ready when book one ended, and book three isn't near ready now. If you haven't looked at The Machine God yet, please do. It will be running from now through the end of the year, I think; I haven't finished putting it all in the scheduler. It updates every Wednesday.
One of the reasons book three isn't ready: I'm going in for heart surgery this Friday, a procedure I've been dreading the better part of a year. It's minor as heart surgery goes. They're not opening my chest, for instance. But they are mucking about with it, and given my history I'm rather more than nervous. I've had a hard time concentrating; finishing up Machine God, for instance, was a real effort.
Epilogue | Son in Sorrow | IHGK Book 2
The Northern Wastes, late Summer's Beginning, 992 KY
Rodder Pawl looked down the long, curving ridge jutting out of the lake and shivered. What a fate it would be for his horse to lose her footing and drag him caravan and all down the steep wooded hillsides into that lake, icy blue even on this warm summer day with the air full of sharp green and warm brown smells. But the track was wide, his caravan sturdy, and his mare sure-footed. There would be no accident before he entered the walls of Gremassem.
July 12, 2013
Chapter 18 Part 4 | Son in Sorrow | IHGK Book 2
Mathanus vomited on his own feet; Justinna huddled on the floor in incoherent shrieks. Temmin would have begged for Allis's life, but the stickiness filled his mouth; all he could do was cry. Nerr was going to kill her, to whip her to death, and it was his fault--beat me, kill me, Lord! he begged silently. "She bears responsibility too, never doubt it," said Nerr, raising the strap and bringing it down again. "She must bear the pain alone if she's to be of any use to My Sister."
