Cedar Sanderson's Blog, page 252

Pixie Noir: Snippet 10

We are coming down to the finish of these snippets. There is a cover ready, we’re waiting on the printer’s approval of files for the trade paperback version of the book, and the ebook versions are all ready to go. I’m getting pretty excited about it, but I don’t know what I will do with my Sundays when there are no more snippets to post! Suggestions?

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Tex meandered in, something I was learning was his speed. “You two ready?”

We turned and answered “yes” in unison. He grinned, and gestured toward the rear. “Ladies first.”

“No.” They both looked at me in surprise, that must have come out pretty firmly. “I go first, always, Bella. Part of my job.”

I was walking as I talked to her, and went into the back hall with a glance around, then motioned her to follow me. Tex trailed behind, a very amused look on his face. I was guessing the Alaskan princess was used to ruling this part of the world with velvet gloves. None of the men in her life let her pretend to be a delicate flower, but they all treated her like a jewel. I approved. The more I got to know this family, the more I hoped they weren’t part of this nasty business. But I couldn’t trust just yet.

Once we were onboard, I relaxed. Tex had the engine going and the plane preflighted. I was going to trust that part. I have no idea how to fly a plane of any size.

Bella buckled up, then looked over her shoulder at me. “Need help?”

I shook my head. I might not be able to fly one, but I had flown in one many times. She handed me a pair of headphones and I put them on, just as the engine whine rose to a higher level.

“On our way,” Tex announced and we began to roll across the tarmac, bouncing gently.

“So, where is Haines?” I asked. I hadn’t wanted to talk about it before we were in the air. You never knew when ears were perked in your direction. But the clatter of the plane ought to keep them from prying too much.

Bella answered. Tex seemed to be ignoring us. “Southeast Alaska. I have a great-aunt there. I’m not sure why Raven is sending us to Aunt Min, but I am sure we will find out soon.”

“How soon is soon?”

“Well, if we drove, it would take about eight hours. Up here, we can go the path the, er, Raven flies. We’ll be there in about four hours.”

“At least we don’t have to walk.” I find that my short stature sometimes has advantages, as I curled up in the seat. “I’m going to take a nap. If you can, Bella, you might want to sleep. Tex, please don’t.”

The tall man chuckled in response to that sally. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift, sleeping might not be an option, but I could probably achieve a drowse. My mind was going a mile a minute, like it always did, and sleep was difficult on a good day, which this was not.

I was awakened by a jolt. “Huh, wha?” I asked, sitting up. I had fallen asleep, remarkably.

“I don’t know what it was.” Bella answered me, even though she couldn’t have understood the words. I looked out the window. It was clear and bright, we had flown into the dawn.

“Not turbulence.” Tex was looking down at the instrument panel. “Should be smooth sailing. Bella, can you see if we still have a tail?”

Now I was really awake. “What?”

Tex laughed. “It’s a joke, greenhorn.”

I bared my teeth at his back in an angry grin. He couldn’t see me, I knew, he was looking out the window. Bella was looking out her side.

“What, did we run into something, up here?” I asked, looking out the window myself. The same direction as Bella, which meant neither of us were looking in the direction of the attack. One minute we were more or less straight and level, the next I was looking straight down at the frozen Alaskan landscape below us. Bella shrieked, and I let out a strangled grunt as I hit the end of the tether that was my seat harness.

Tex was silent, but once I had myself righted, I could see the look on his face as he wrestled the little plane back under control. Scared half out of his mind. I closed my eyes and opened the Sight. It was big, and close.

“Put us in a dive!” I shouted without opening my eyes. Tex didn’t hesitate. Good man.

“Bank left.” Bella gasped as he did that maneuver, and I guessed she had finally seen what was attacking us. I was more concerned with anticipating the big bird’s moves, and keeping us out of its reach. Without opening my eyes to look I couldn’t identify it, but I knew it had to be a bird, we were too high, and it was too big, for it to be anything else.

It overshot us badly. “Take us back up. Tex, get as much altitude as you can.”

I was still studying it with my eyes closed. I had seen this before in a lifeglow. Tendrils of black penetrated the light from the outside edges, clouding it completely in places. This was a creature with a parasite. Hag-ridden, they used to call it. Nothing I could do about it, that was irrelevant… But it might slow the natural reflexes of the creature.

“Dive!” I yelled as it looped back around and above us. I opened my eyes and grabbed the back of Bella’s seat. My gorge rose and I swallowed, hard, trying not to let the pizza come back out. In retrospect, stuffing myself was a bad idea. Tex added his own little fillip to the maneuver, twisting us around to the right tightly, almost throwing us into a spin before he straightened back out.

Bella gasped and pointed. I looked, and identified our enemy.

“Tex, do you have a gun? That’s a Roc. He’s bigger than this damn plane, and right now he’s toying with us. When he wants us down, we will go down.”

Bella twisted around and pointed. “There’s a box under your seat, Tex’s pistol is in it, and it’s loaded for bear.”

The Roc, looking like an overgrown Golden Eagle, glided alongside us. I could see him watching us. Birds aren’t equipped to smile, and still I could see his smirk. I fumbled under the seat for the box with one hand and unlatched my harness with another.

“Why isn’t it attacking?” Bella’s voice was shaking. I didn’t blame her. We were flying over lovely, snowcapped mountains right now, and there was a limit to how high we could go. Which meant the ground was coming up to meet us, and there was not a lot of room for error, much less a dogfight with a big bird.

“He’s toying with us. Roc’s tend to be sadistic SOB’s. How far out are we, Tex?”

“About thirty minutes.” The man’s knuckles were white on the yoke. I sympathized, and admired his fortitude in flying straight despite the bird keeping pace with us.

“So we don’t have long, and neither does he.” I looked back out at the bird. “How do I open the window?”

“You don’t open that one. Only the door windows open, and not very far.” Bella’s voice was more in control already.

“Ah. I’m coming up there, then.” I didn’t give them time to object before I abandoned my position, ripping the headphones off.

I scrambled over the seat, trying not to kick Tex, who grunted and leaned out of my way. This left me in Bella’s lap, as she squeaked a little in surprise. She flipped one latch and I got the other, and then realized this was going to be a challenge. The little plane was not designed for offensive purposes, the window opened at the bottom and swung out a few inches, then stopped. I could get the gun through it, but any visions I’d had of hanging out like a helicopter gunner were dashed.

“Tex, want me to shoot forward, or aft?” I could get the pistol out, but couldn’t bend my arm and hold it steady to shoot the bird, who was looking even more amused. The looks he was giving me were pissing me off.

“Aft,” he replied after a long second of thought. “Less chance of prop damage. Let’s do this quick, you’re throwing my trim off.”

“You have an idea?” I asked him.

“Yup. Brace yourself.”

I glanced at Bella. I was straddling her lap so I could aim out the window, my knees on either side of hers. She nodded, and grabbed me around the waist, holding on for dear life and essentially burying her face in my midsection. Damn, life was unfair. I didn’t have time for a reaction before Tex put us into a steep climb.

I held on tight to the gun, hoping this didn’t break my wrists. The bird peeled away and looped below us. I lost sight of it, then watched it rising rapidly up at us. I held my fire. The big revolver only gave me six shots. “What’s the plan?” I yelled to Tex, hoping he would hear me. The headphones were on my seat in the back, and the noise and cold with the window open were becoming overwhelming. I needed to get a shot, fast.

“Put it into a spin, and hope the wings don’t fall off.” He grunted and twisted the yoke, throwing us up and around. Only Bella’s arms kept me in place as the plane went over. The bird missed us, and I fired twice into the massive breast as he brushed our wing. The third shot went through the wingtip of the plane.

“Oops.” I muttered, eyeing the neat hole in the aluminum. The bird was spiralling towards the ground, a few feathers drifting in his wake.

Tex couldn’t hear me, he was focussed on pulling us out of the danger of slamming into a mountainside. I pulled the gun back in. My hands were so numb I was afraid I would drop it.

“Bella, close the window.” I managed, my teeth chattering.

She didn’t hear me. I shuddered and dropped the gun in between us as she looked up. “Sorry…” My hands just weren’t working properly. She grabbed the window latch and pulled it closed. Tex cranked the heat up. I was shaking now. I hadn’t thought about not having my coat on, I had taken it off to use as a pillow. Bella hugged me close, now that I wasn’t kneeling, we were face to face, and I could see the concern in her eyes. I was sitting fully on her lap at this point, and her body heat was delicious.

“Is it gone?” I could feel the warmth of her breath and hear the concern in her voice, even without headphones. I nodded, trying to control the chattering of my teeth.

“I don’t see it.” Tex was looking out his window, below us. “Not in the air, or down there, either.”

“I don’ think I killed it.” I managed through stiff lips.

“Well, as long as we scared it off.” He looked over at us. “You two gonna canoodle, or let me get back in trim?”

“I could go for canoodling.” I said before I could stop myself. Bella laughed out loud. She let go of me and carefully picked the gun up from between us. I blurted out, “Dear lord, that was a joke, you don’t need to shoot me.”

 

Lexile and Reading

My post over at Mad Genius Club this morning is about reading levels, books, and how complex literature can be without using big words and lengthy sentences.

Review: Last Flight From Queensland

I wanted to talk to you all, those of you who care to reply, anyway, about what you’d like to see here for reviews? Do you want me to find good stuff, and post happy reviews of things you might enjoy reading: in other words, only the good? Or do you want the randomness that I have been doing, where I review what comes to me, either through someone seeking a review, or me finding an indie author and trying them out. The problem with the random ones is that you have to put up with a bitter pill once in a while (and I had to read all the way through it!). So let me know, and I will tell you that the next title up for review is Laura Montgomery’s The Sky Suspended, which should appear next week at this time. After that is up to you all. And maybe I stop doing reviews and go to Free Fiction Fridays once Pixie Noir is released and there are no more snippets.

MikeWeatherford’s Last Flight from Queensland Station suffers from an unfortunate cover, but once you overlook that handicap, it’s a fun science fiction read. A combination of space opera and mystery, with a strong dollop of romance, I really enjoyed the characters as they struggled to keep the science observers happy while keeping them safe. He ends the story strongly and well, making this a stand-alone novel with the chance of a sequel, but no cliff-hanger, a refreshing change. If you enjoy Weber, Drake, or classic space opera, this is a good choice for a solid read. I keep planning to explore his other titles, but sadly have not enough time to read!

 

A Flash Of Rain

I had written this flash fiction piece a while back, and put it away, it is too short to do much with, but it’s a poignant story, and when I came across it this afternoon I decided to share it here. Enjoy. Let me know what you think. 

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Aunt Emma was watering the garden in the rain when I got home. I got out of the car and went to her, my shoes soaking in the mud and water as fast as I stepped into it. Her face was turned down like a wilted flower, but when I lifted her chin, I could feel the slickness of her drool on it.

“Oh,” was all I could say. “Oh, my dear.”

She looked at me with vacant eyes, and we stood there in the wetness, her gone, and my mind flying back over the years to my childhood and the warmth of the sunshine, of her smile as we picked flowers together.

“How did we get here?”

She didn’t answer, but tremulously, she lifted a hand to touch my cheek. I bent my head into her touch, feeling that she was cold.

“Come inside.”

Still no reply, but when I crooked my arm, she slid her little hand into my elbow, and we walked together toward the house. The hose laid forlornly on the muddy ground behind us, as we walked slowly, the core warmth seeping out of me. When we reached the door, I knew that she would never be able to be alone again. From my caretaker, to my care. And I knew my care would be as helpful to her as watering the garden in the rain.

The Garden Of Love

Without metaphor, our language and literature would be pale shadows of themselves.

For class, we had to “remediate” a metaphor, which was to manipulate an assigned text into a different media, and then present it in public. We were assigned William Blake’s poem “The Garden of Love” and chose to create an image to represent the metaphors we saw in the poem. Below is the poetry, and following that, the image, with the analysis below it.

The Garden of Love

BY WILLIAM BLAKE

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.


And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And Thou shalt not. writ over the door;
So I turn’d to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore.


And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

See the flower key below.

Key to flowers for “Garden of Love” remediation

Absinthe = absence

Acanthus = unbreakable bonds

Anemone = abandonment

Asphodel= my regrets will follow you to the grave

Bugloss = falsehood

Catch-fly = Snare

Cypress = Death or grief

Cherry Laurel = Perfidy

Madder = Calumny

Calendula = pain

Nettle – cruelty

Rhododendron = danger

White rose = innocence, silence

Sunflower = pride

Thistle = criticism

Weeping willow = bitter sorrow

There are multiple layers of meaning able to be drawn from Blake’s poem, which is an indictment not only of religion, but of the culture that allowed the chains to be drawn tight around them, and which preferred to ponder ghastly graves than flowers, lightness, and love. The use of a floral language, even if not directly referenced, is implicit in his use of the contrast between sweet flowers, and briars. In the presentation image, the flowers used to convey the sentiments of the poem are weedy, unbeautiful, or ephemeral: that is, not a flower you could pluck and add to a bouquet without it dying very quickly.

Blake himself, in the poem, uses language in a way meant to sway his audience toward him. Who could resist the idea of the idyllic child’s play on the green, romping in the sunshine? Then, from sweet flowers to tombstones, again, the natural draw is to life, joy, and the desires he so vividly describes as bound with briars. No child having grown up in the countryside playing outdoors and picking berries would be able to resist the memory of sweet juices hard-won with a little blood and tears from scratches. Blake, a master of this appeal, makes his audience recoil from a cultural constant, the weekly trip to a church, and perhaps, consider what they went to the church for, and why.

All Joking Aside

look, it’s a Baenie Baby!

A few of us were kidding around in the writing group I belong to online. It’s not your average group: we never show one another examples of work for critique, although we use one another as guinea pigs, er, beta readers, from time to time. This group is more for motivation. We post word counts, cover designs (most of us are also indie authors), or just general rants against the world when the writing is not going well. This particular discussion got started with a declaration of intent: to not edit while writing for NaNoWriMo, just to keep going ahead. The funny guy in the group promptly responded with “Push, push, push…Breathe, breathe…push, push, push.”

So, ok, maybe NaNo doesn’t equal Lamaze. But writing can sure feel like the creation of something new, wonderful, and maybe a bit slippery and gross at first. It’s only after that editing clean-up, and maybe the addition of some soft, sweet blankets (cover!) that your baby starts to pink up and look adorable. Ok, I realize I’ve just left some men and non-parents in the dust here. Trust me on this one (I’ve done it four times, after all, for real babies) when I say it is both easier and harder than that.

For one thing, with a baby, you know it’s going to come out. One way or another… ten months of pregnancy and labor, and it’s over. A book has no such guarantee. Unless you push, like my friend is doing with NaNo, you might never deliver that sucker. As a writer, if you want to be serious about your art, you have to introduce some discipline, with goals, and stick to them. Yes, I know you hear this all the time, from everyone. There’s a reason for that. Oddly enough, it’s us creative types, who get the bad rap for being spacey and disorganized, who really do have to learn the most excellent time-managment skills to keep everything going toward the finish line of delivery.

How is it harder than having a baby, you’re wondering? Well, first of all, when you are holding your newborn in your arms and they look like a little pink rosebud monkey, everyone is socially required to lie. That’s the most adorable little person ever, and don’t you believe it. With your book, on the other hand, a few people are going to pick that thing up by one cover, hold it out at arm’s length, and exclaim loudly “I think something needs a diaper change! What’s that smell?” and they will do it on the internet, where their critique will linger. Unlike a baby in private, a book has to venture out into the cold wide world and make its own way, so soon after you’ve delivered it. And you have to set to, even before that debut, on writing another one. Sometimes I look back at women of old, like Susanna Wesley with her nineteen children, and wonder how on earth they could bear it, especially knowing so many would die, their promises unfulfilled.

But just keep writing. Whether you think of it as labor and birth of something new, amazing, and slightly stinky before cleaning, or if you just see words on a page, that story isn’t going to tell itself. “Push, push, push…Breathe, breathe…push, push, push.”

Beautiful America: First Snow

So I didn’t post this morning because it’s been awfully busy here in Southern Ohio, with Pixie Noir needing final checks before it goes to print, school pressing for my attention, and this morning, waking up to snow. The first snow of the year was always a magical thing for me, as a young person because it might mean sledding or skiing (cross-country. I don’t careen down hills, that stuff’s nuts!) and in high school, a day off from that. When I was a bit older, and had my own children, I always love seeing their reactions to it. They get so excited.

As an adult driver, like this morning, I’m more aware that it’s slick, dangerous, cold, and nasty. But there is still something wonderful in that first snow of the year. And the serenity of walking in a hushed wood in deep snow, with more coming down, is a priceless memory.

Freshly fallen snow clinging to everything… the world falls silent.

Snow on a seedhead of spirea.

My bootprint, and my then 7 year-old son’s track.

Bright sun… so pretty as long as you don’t have to drive in it!

Pekin Ducks in the snow – they had shelter, but seemed to enjoy their new-found camoflage abilities.

Back Covers

I’m not sure if this qualifies as a nuts-and-bolts post, or a “what I have been up to this morning!” I spent a good part of my morning formatting and uploading files for Pixie Noir, hoping to hit the proposed publication date in a more-or-less timely fashion. I am working with Createspace again for this, my second indie-published novel. Doing the interior was… not painless, but not as bad as it could have been. I highly recommend two things to you. One, grab a handful of trade paperbacks in the genre you are publishing off your bookshelf, and two, this site (hat tip to Amanda Green for putting me on to it). The section break thing alone was worth it.

Ok, now that you have your books, flip them over so you are looking at the backs. We all look at the pretty art on the front cover, but I have that part handled already. Today I did the spine and back of the book. Note where text, graphics, and blurbs from people who got a sneak-peek all go. This is what you need to do to yours.

Three backs, a descriptive blurb, praise, and POS data

 

Pixie Noir is still in the proof stage, so I don’t have all of the words that will grace the back – I’m waiting on kind words from at least two other sources – but I was able to play around with some words and graphics to make it look pretty.

The cover in progress for the print version of Pixie Noir

 

For Hoyt’s Huns

So, the two of us, my First Reader and I. Sitting on the steps at LibertyCon 25, in 2012

Pixie Noir: Snippet 9

I’m very excited, I have a draft of the cover for you all to look at! It’s likely going to be tweaked before final release, but do let me know what you think! (Be honest, remember, this is for posterity…)

Only a couple more snippets before you can buy the whole thing and gobble it up all at once. As always, to begin at the beginning, click here. 

###############

“Bella. You ok?” The shorter one, still taller than she was by six inches, which meant he towered over me, hugged her. “Uncle sent me to wait for you, I was beginning to worry.”

She hugged him back and I thought I heard a small sigh, before she gestured at me as he let her down.

“I’m fine. A bit bruised. This is Lom, he’s been helping me.”

She looked at me, then. “Lom, this is my cousin Mark, and Tex, who isn’t a cousin, but might as well be.”

Mark surveyed me with dark hazel eyes as he took my hand briefly. Then I looked up at Tex, who had to stoop a little to shake my hand. He was taller than her grandfather, a skinny rake of a man in greasy coveralls.

“You’re our ride out of here?” I surmised, and he grinned.

“Yup, sure am. Come into the warm, though, like to freeze my…”

“Tex!” Bella interrupted. An old-fashioned girl, that one. But inside sounded good. Maybe there would be food, too.

I followed the girl in, content to let the men wait chivalrously for us to go in. They may also have been assessing me for threat, not that I gave a damn at the moment. I’d seen that Mark was of Lavendar’s blood when he’d hugged Bella and their lifeglows were identical. I was safe, for values of safe. In the building was a large waiting area, a universal design and decor, and on the counter where tickets were no doubt sold from, were two large pizza boxes.

I headed for them. Mark grabbed a stack of paper plates and handed Bella and I each a slice of pizza.

“Fast Eddie’s Mad Trapper Pie.” He announced cheerfully. I didn’t care what it was called, I needed it. I was already taking a bite.

It was good. Spicy – my mouth was already burning, but hot and greasy and perfect. Mark watched me eat, and slid another piece on my plate before I could even ask. I was most of the way through that piece before I remembered what I needed to ask.

“Bella, have you a passport?”

She looked startled. I guessed it hadn’t crossed her mind, just like it hadn’t really sunk in that she was leaving home.

“Yes, but…” she turned to Mark. “It is in my cabin, and I don’t know how we will get it. Some clothes and things would be nice.” She looked back at me, a pleading expression. “And the cat. Who will feed him?

Mark snorted. “Rasputin will feed himself. Nothing short of a wolverine would take that mangy excuse on. As for the rest of it, let me make a call.”

I interrupted. “Whoever goes needs to use caution. And I need to get my case off the snow machine, dammit.” I had completely forgotten it in my need to get food in my system. That wasn’t good. I could not let my guard down like this.

I got up, when had I sat down? I couldn’t remember. Tex materialized. “Hey, settle back. Here’s your briefcase.” He set it down next to me. “You’re looking a little peaky. Guess you needed to eat.”

I knew he hadn’t tried to open it. If he had, there would be some melted snow outside. The elaborate tooling on the case was for more than decoration. I patted it and went back to eating.

Mark handed me another slice on a fresh plate. I sighed and intoned. “Bless you, my son.”

He snorted. “I’ll call Dan to get her things. I think you met him this morning.”

“Is it still today?”

Bella laughed. “I need to talk to him, Mark. He’ll need my combination.” She made a face. “And I will change it when I get back, just so you all know!”

Mark adopted an expression of abused innocence while I watched the byplay with amusement. They were more like siblings than most cousins. I went back to eating while they talked to Dan on the counter phone.

Bella came and perched on the arm of the dilapidated couch I was sitting on when she was done. “This won’t take long. Raven told Tex to take us to Haines, when we do leave.”

“Where?” I was surprised at how many feathers the old spirit was sticking into the pot. Bella must be something special to him.

She nodded. “Exactly. It’s unlikely your, um, cohorts, will know where it is, either.”

“Not my cohorts.” I felt utterly tired, now, but the warm glow in my stomach was soothing my unsettled humor.

“What are they then?”

“Yes,” Mark joined the conversation, sitting across from me. “I’d like to know, too.”

“I told Bella earlier, she has an inheritance from her grandmother. I know, she’d like to be able to decline it, but that’s not an option. These people are going to come after her, no matter what. And they will use you – her family – as leverage to get to her.”

“Yes,” Bella broke in, “I’ve accepted that. But who are ‘they’?”

I rubbed my face. This was not going to be easy. I wasn’t supposed to tell Mark, an outsider, anything. Oh, hell, he is Lavendar’s blood.

“Look, Fairy, the world Underhill, is broken into two courts. Just like in the stories.”

She wrinkled her nose, an expression I was finding rather endearing. “Summer and Winter? Low and High? Grandmother’s stories were always changing.”

Mark nodded at this. “She didn’t tell me the same stories as Bella, but I learned very young the value of sitting still and being quiet.”

“Always a useful skill,” I told him, still trying to marshal my thoughts. “Summer, Winter, light, dark, good, evil… No one quite knows how it happened, but over the centuries each court has become a magnet for certain personalities. It isn’t always linked to bloodlines, of course, although there are certain families who are always Summer, or always Winter. Lavendar was Summer court, and thus you you are, Bella.”

Mark got up and brought the pizza over and put it in front of me. I nodded my gratitude as I took another piece, and went on.

“For some time now, Summer has been on the wane. Nothing overt was ever done, but Winter would prefer that Summer stay out of the way, so it was assumed that certain accidents… weren’t.”

I stopped to finish eating. I needed the fuel badly, still. I took another piece.

She went on, “so I am being targeted by Winter fairies? And they have Troll allies?”

Mark gave her a startled look. Raven must not have told him about that fight.

I swallowed. The pizza was very good, but I was eating too fast to appreciate much. Tex materialized and handed me a bottle of soda.

“Dan’s on his way,” he informed us laconically. “I am going to go tighten the rubberbands.”

When he’d gone outside, I looked at the others. “Tighten the rubberbands?”

It gave me the chance to finish – was this my fourth, or fifth piece? – while Mark answered. “When Tex came here he was used to flying larger planes. The running joke is that he loves the little bush planes, but he never misses an opportunity to down-talk them. Says the J-5 he will be flying today runs on two rubber bands… ever play with a toy airplane?”

I nodded, my mouth full. I got the joke, now. Bella reminded me gently, “what about the Winter court?”

“I am not convinced it’s the Winter court alone. I know they have allies, and some of them may be Summer Court, I’m sorry to tell you.” What I wasn’t going to tell her was that I trusted no-one. Not even her sweet, innocent little face. It might look to them like I was only talking, and stuffing my face. I was also watching their every reaction to what I was saying. Mark was looking slightly concerned, with protective glances at his cousin from time to time. She might think of herself as competent and independent, but she had a pack of family who looked after her.

Bella was solemnly focused on me. I went on, “among other allies, the worst will be the goblins. They are known as the defilers for a good reason. Do not,” I emphasized grimly, holding her eyes with mine, “let them take you captive. The women and children are worse than the warriors, and that is no exaggeration.”

She nodded, looking a little pale. I picked up the last piece.

“Do you always eat like that?” She followed the arc as I lifted it to my mouth and took a big bite.

I shook my head and swallowed. “No, but I burned a lot of energy back there. Remember that. Magic use comes with a cost, always. Try to do too much, and it will kill you.”

She sighed, “I have so much to learn, and so little time.”

I nodded. Not much more I could say, to that. The door swung open and I was on my feet and between her and the newcomer before Mark could even look around. I relaxed, recognizing the man stamping snow off his boots. While I was up, I grabbed the other box, the one with half a pizza left in it.

Dan brought a thick envelope and a backpack to Bella. She stood up and hugged her cousin, and he glared at me over her shoulder while he rubbed her back. I nodded at him, acknowledging his anger and frustration. The burly, bearded man rather intimidated me, and he didn’t have a bit of magic.

Bella kept her face turned away from me when she let go of him, but I could tell from her hand movements that she was wiping her tears away. Dan came to me.

“Anything else we can do?” He asked me in a deep, quiet voice. I shook my head. The food had me alert again, and now I had to think through how we were going to get safely away from here, without any collateral damage. We needed to leave, soon. My power signature was damped, I knew, but she had no such training, nor did Mark. I mentally debated taking him with us. No – they would leave him alone, he was male and posed no danger to them.

“No. We need to leave, before trouble finds us.”

Bella swung the backpack over her shoulder. “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

She looked down at the box in front of me, then looked me in the eyes, raising an eyebrow. “It’s amazing you aren’t round, the way you eat.”

She had a right to snark at me, I had eaten a pizza and a half, it looked like. “Remember to have food on hand when you learn to do that. Then you will understand.” And I was looking forward to training her, and getting a chance to prove it to her as she tossed back the calories afterward.

“I’m going to be able to toss a snowmobile?” She grinned.

To my surprise, I grinned back, demurring, “I didn’t exactly toss it.”