Excerpt: The Ice Witch

Today I’m sharing a brief excerpt from my high fantasy novella, The Ice Witch of Fang Marsh. There are two viewpoint characters in the tale. This one is Meven’s. Enjoy!

     The narrow street crossed others at an angle that made it hard for Meven to see where she was going. She kept moving, listening to the people nearby. Surely there had to be a larger street. One that would lead to a gate, and freedom.
   Groaning their complaints, the people around her stopped to let a wagon full of wood rumble by. Meven tensed as a vague spark of magic pricked at her senses. Stinging heat lusted to set something afire. She refused to look around.
     “Nothing to do with you, Meven. Keep your eyes on your own business.”
     The oxen pulling the wagon dropped dung under the wheels. Meven wished she could have stayed on the ship instead of dealing with so many stinking people and animals. Two weeks at sea had been a blessing and a relief. Born on the water but for years exiled to land, she had forgotten so much! The rhythmic dance of the ship on the tide. The musky tang of salt water, the creak of the rigging and slap of waves against the side.
     People started to move around her. Meven made to step with them, but another driver cracked his whip and rushed his wagon into the gap. People around her grumbled with frustration.
     “Typical,” Meven said to no one in particular.
     Long ago, almost thirty years now, she had been a water-child who toddled the deck of her family’s houseboat, Fawn. She had learned to walk and swim at roughly the same time. From one port to another the family roamed mighty Lake Bilseng, up and down and across and around. Sometimes they earned coin by delivering cargo between Nibbuk and Ortach. Mostly they foraged in the mangrove thickets to net enough food for all the mouths aboard. Those had been golden days. Before her magic emerged and capsized her life.
     As a child, Meven hadn’t questioned her parents’ way of life. Now she understood how much they risked, yet also gained, by living on the water. Her recent journey by boat had been mere impulse, the fastest way out of a trap. She hadn’t expected it to become a sojourn through fond memories. Now that she had revisited the sensations of life on the water, Meven didn’t want to give it up. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to.
     Well, not only luck. Planning, scheming, and perhaps a bit of trickery would be involved. Also, relearning a few old skills to keep herself hidden and fed in a mangrove swamp. But first, she had to get out of this wretched town!

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