How do your fictional mothers fare?

Oh, it’s been a gorgeous Mother’s Day here, bountiful with flowers, chocolates, hugs, playful kiddies, goofy dogs, bunny cuddles, relaxed lunching, soft sunny weather and early morning serenading by a quail (too complicated to go into why I was sleeping overnight in a chair eight feet from our newest ‘rescue’, Aquila-the-Quail).

At this end of the day, I am left reflecting not only on my own familial relations, but on that of my numerous ‘fictional mums’, especially Riana, heroine of The Siaris Quartet.

Riana comes into her own in Reunion, second book of the quartet, with a complex and evolving connection to her lifelong love. At the start of this book he is bound by a dark spell and far from friendly, but spells can wane, and Riana’s intuition is awake to the tiniest glimmer of change. The last thing she expects is for motherhood to find her again. Her two daughters perished twenty thousand years ago, and the circumstances she finds herself in now would not be considered ‘ideal’ for another conception, in any world. But life can take strange turns, and the makers of Siaris take a very big view of their creation and its players.

Riana has a mighty strong will, but how will she face the ultimate test: to do whatever it takes to protect her child, even if it means putting herself at risk, without betraying her responsibilities as a Guardian of Siaris?  Part of the ‘epic’ in the second book of this fantasy is the primal force of motherhood, which will dare all to safeguard its young, in real life as in myth and legend. As in real life, Riana’s mothering does not happen in a vacuum, nor in ‘Paradise regained’ (yet), but in a world of contrasting pulls and demands. In this excerpt from Reunion, Riana surfaces from a tangle of reflections to follow the dictate of her heart:

***

“Mi’ama?”

The sourness lifted from Riana’s mind. “Sorry, darling.” She pulled Daimen closer, until his head was resting on her breast. One of his wings stretched down, its tip brushing her knee. His pinions were starting to lengthen, and she’d hardly noticed. She blinked back a sudden rush of tears. Daimen nestled in tightly, as if he couldn’t get close enough to her.

“Mi’ama, are you leaving?”

Riana took in a breath. Daimen’s eyes were raised to her, layer on layer of shadows wheeling in their depths. She stroked his arm, following its longer, less childish contour. Watching where her hand passed, her stomach knotted. Daimen was growing, yes – but his spellsheen was riddled with weaknesses, unable to form properly under the constant violence. At his age, it should have at least three separate constructs – silken comforters, radiant healers, sharp-edged protectors. Instead, she was looking at patches of broken patterns that floated on a fragile web of spell-threads, so destructible.

She’d been putting off a final decision, caught by the thought of what her family had risked to get her out of Mortaidh, dreading Aeron’s reaction. Now, looking at her son, she knew what she had to do, that she couldn’t hesitate any longer.

“Can I come too?”

Daimen’s words broke into her crystallizing train of thought. She kissed his forehead. His scent filled her, reminding her of Deep Corewane, that day at the end of every summer when veils shrouded the Core’s brilliance, leaving the sky heavy and rich. Daimen’s moods, his passions, his sensitivities, would become as intense as the dying summer with age – she already saw the man he would be. But his extremes would be threaded with sweetness, if only he was allowed a space to grow as he should.

If only.

She folded a hand around his wing-crest. “No, that you mustn’t do. It wouldn’t be safe for you.”

Daimen’s mouth turned down at the corners. “I’m not safe here.”

Riana pressed her face into his hair. “You will be, sweetheart. I promise.”

Daimen’s lids drooped. He snuggled down further, and fell into a sleep deeper than he’d been permitted for weeks. Riana let her own eyes close, savoring this moment of tranquility. Of release. She didn’t let her mind focus for even a second on Mortaidh, and what the lull meant – no thought on her part must darken Daimen’s dreaming.

The outline of Aeron’s face sharpened in front of her. His thought was turning this way, and Riana could guess why. It was time to speak with him of what she intended to do. He was struggling, and she needed him to stay steady – to look after Daimen in her absence.

However long that will be.

She had to inform someone else first. Goosebumps ran across her skin. She pulled her focus in tight and threaded it south on a line of flickering gold.

***

Riana, I wish you the best of fortune. And to all the mothers out there in this world, may happiness and peace shine on all your pathways. Happy Mother’s Day!

To my truest friend

Reunion:The Siaris Quartet Book Two can be found at Musa Publishing, Amazon and Barnes&Noble.

Of Walls, Lightships and Telepathy

This is a post I would never have dreamed of writing, until a few weeks ago – the night of February 18th, to be exact – and the fact that I was given time to run indoors for my camera. It isn’t easy to talk about clairvoyance, telepathy or contact with extra-terrestrial ‘friends and family’ (to put it mildly) in a world that privileges the mentality of ‘seeing is believing’. Some brave souls do; my eldest great-aunt was interviewed on radio about reincarnation in the 1950s, much to the consternation of the family.

For the purposes of this post I will focus on telepathy, personal experience, and inter-generational patterns, as I discovered a few years ago in a memorable conversation with my grandmother. Quite ‘out of the blue’, she spoke to me of her childhood experiences of telepathy – or in her case, involuntary, overwhelming mental bombardment with other people’s thoughts. She related that by the age of eight, and especially at school, being immersed in a continuous wash of other children’s thoughts (not all of them pleasant) became so distressing that she deliberately constructed a psychic ‘wall’ around her mind to screen out the mental chatter. No one taught her how to do this, but she succeeded, and effectively blocked the cross-currents of her classmates’ thoughts and emotions. It astounded me to hear this story; it was sad to feel what we had not shared all those years, yet also wonderful. Why? Because I had done exactly the same thing, at the same age, and by some strange fortune, at the same school! When I turned eight, my family moved from Perth (Western Australia) to Hobart (Tasmania). We stayed until the end of that first year in the house where my grandmother had grown up. I went to her old school for a term…and reached a level of mental ‘in-flow’ from others that I couldn’t handle, so built walls to create a ‘safe space’.

Nan at 90

Nan at 90

I will never know now what my grandmother did with her enclosed sensitivity, but for me, it was the beginning of creating an internal yet distant world that would become peopled with a race of symbiotes who ‘walked in each other’s thoughts’ and communicated telepathically as naturally as breathing. This world became the basis of Siaris, and the quartet of novels currently underway. The novels’ characters grew into people with their own stories and complexities, but their form and nature changed very little from those early imaginings.

Perhaps bringing Siaris out of its private ‘sanctuary’ into the public arena as a set of fantasy novels gave me a personal ‘push’ as well…to dismantle the mental wall built in childhood and allow/encourage my ‘inner antennae’ to function again. To detail that dismantling (still in progress) would take a book, so I’ll just say here that it has been – and is – a profound, ongoing act of love, with rewards that are incalculable. Rewards which took me out to the front driveway of my house on February 18th, night of Jupiter conjuncting the Moon. Three days earlier, I had asked those I am in contact with (ETs, space brothers, light beings, star family, call them what you will) for a piece of ’3D evidence’ of their presence/reality to share with others. As I stood looking at Jupiter ‘touching’ the Moon, my vision altered and Jupiter appeared a golden colour. I had a strong sense of a presence there and, on receiving a confirmation, headed inside for my camera. By the time I returned (about 30 seconds) a beautiful lightship had appeared above the Moon, with a central blue disc shape rimmed in silver, pink and violet. Here are the photos:

Moon, with Jupiter conjuncting the Moon's lower right hand side

18-02-13 Moon, with Jupiter conjuncting the Moon’s lower right hand side

Moon lower right of frame, lightship entering upper right

Moon lower right of frame, lightship entering upper right

Lightship close-up

Lightship close-up

Lightship close-up; blue disc, pink, violet and silver rim

Lightship close-up; blue disc, pink, violet and silver rim

 

Lastly, I’ll leave you with a little excerpt from Reunion, second novel in The Siaris Quartet, where the human viewpoint character, Ravin, has a breakthrough moment:

Ravin?

Ravin stepped out of the water-stream and picked up a towel. The whisper ran through his head but he didn’t respond. How many times had he invented Lenea’s voice, played with its subtle timbre and wrapped it around the lonely space inside his chest?

Ravin?

He paused in the motion of towel-drying his legs and leaned against the cubicle wall in sudden shock. A thread, almost invisible, stretched in front of his mind’s eye, strung with tiny particles of light that hung like golden pearls before him.

The breath burst from his lungs. Lenea?

Oh, well done, my love. Lenea’s mental voice brushed into him, raising gooseflesh on his damp skin.

Ravin couldn’t help laughing. I didn’t do anything!

Exactly. You relaxed and let your subtle mind do its work. I knew you could.

Oh gods, Lenea! The reality sank into Ravin’s whirling mind. I – we’re talking. You’re with me.

Always with you, ciria.

The pearls quivered on the thread, as if blown by a brisk wind. Their sharp movement soaked into Ravin’s brain – and he understood they signaled turmoil in his Hiniran lover. Lenea love, what are you thinking?

Ravin, we need to meet. Can you leave the city?

Ravin hesitated. Lenea hadn’t answered his question, but he let it go. He did a quick mental assessment of the various shafts leading out of Dominas into the hills of the Vale. The least-used passages were those closest to the summits, especially in the quiet hours before dawn.

He tried sending a picture along the thread. So fine, but it held steady and absorbed the image he imprinted. A white platform sunken into the blue heights of a hill facing northwest, a slim-line door decorated in a pattern of silver, dim in the bronze light.

All right, my love. I’ll be there.

The thread dissolved. Ravin shivered. The heat of Lenea’s presence ran through his limbs as if they’d just made love, as if her spellsheen had loosed silken arousers around his flesh. Looking down, he snorted. He needed another shower – a cold one.

***

Well, it always pays to keep a sense of humour! I’ll leave you to make up your own minds…though I have taken poetic license here: for me, it seems not so much like a string of pearls as a line of warm diamond light….

An Elvish Moment: Reflecting on Tolkien

Seeing Peter Jacksons’ new movie version of The Hobbit recently has led me to ponder afresh the devotion still inspired by Tolkien’s opus, The Lord of the Rings, its ‘prequel’ children’s book The Hobbit, and the deep mythos behind them, collected as The Silmarillion and later on, in the twelve volume set The History of Middle Earth. As you may have guessed from the above, I’ve been a Tolkien fan for years (decades). Reading The Lord of the Rings back to back seventeen times as a teenager was largely responsible for my taste for epic fantasy and invented languages. Tolkien always maintained – to the disbelief of many – that the basis for his writing was primarily linguistic ie; he invented his languages, and the world of Middle Earth and its histories unfolded to house them. The ‘realism’ and internal intergrity of his languages has certainly captivated many; his Quenya (High Elvish) is considered the second-most widely spoken invented language in the world after Esperanto…and considering that Quenya evolved as a purely private individual passion, unlike Esperanto, which was developed with a collective purpose, this is all the more astounding.

Middle Earth diehards were thrilled to see how much loving attention to detail was lavished on The Lord of the Rings movie trilogy. In a way, The Hobbit is even more of a delight, because Jackson has melded into it a great deal of backstory that never appeared in the book, but which belongs to the vast ‘hidden’ story surrounding it. It’s easy to see the passion propelling this enterprise, one I know well from mid-teens when my best friend and I taught ourselves Quenya and wrote letters to each other in Elvish script. A passion that sparked ‘big vision’ in my early writings, layered world-building and a love of word-inventing. In the fantasy sequence I am currently working on, The Siaris Quartet, a taste of other languages remains in spell-casting, but the original material contained whole dialogues written in the languages of the different races – great fun for me, but not so user-friendly when it came to unleashing Siaris on other readers!

After Tolkien’s death, some three thousand pages of language notes were discovered (well, he did term inventing languages his ‘private vice’) and the degree to which he lived and breathed his created world became clear. Nowhere is this more obvious – and poignant – than in what I regard as one of the all-time greatest romances, the tale of Beren and Luthien. Their story appears as a chapter in The Silmarillion, but was initially written in verse (incomplete at 10 000 lines), not only in Elvish language, but in Tengwar (Elvish script). Apart from being a window into the fact that Tolkien imagined the story in Elvish, it is a stunning epic romance tale that could easily fill a novel, and in part a beautiful echo of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, with a gender reversal. Beren and Luthien’s tale really sits at the heart of Tolkien’s mythic world; Aragorn, Elrond, his daughter Arwen and two sons all have blood-links to Beren and Luthien, for instance. They were also at the heart of Tolkien himself. The names Beren and Luthien are carved on the gravestone of Tolkien and his wife. I would love to see the story of Beren and Luthien turned into a film, with the same dedication given to it as to The Hobbit and LOTR.

In the throes of finishing edits on the third book in The Siaris Quartet and starting on the fourth, it feels fitting to pause for an ‘Elvish moment’ and give humble thanks to Tolkien for showing me (and many others) the meaning of a lifelong sub-creative passion, and for the inspiration to build worlds, from love. It does seem appropriate that my second published short story,  ’Feather Fall’ (set in Siaris) appeared in an anthology titled Elf Love (Pink Narcissus Press). Now I have Musa to thank for publishing Daughter of Hope and Reunion, the first two books in The Siaris Quartet .

I shall leave you, gentle readers, with a bit of Elvish:

Elen sila lumen omentielvo ~ A star shines on the hour of our meeting.

The headstone of JRR Tolkien's wife, Oxfordshire, England.

The headstone of JRR Tolkien and his wife, Oxfordshire, England.

‘Reunion’ Release Day!

Reunion, second novel in my fantasy sequence The Siaris Quartet, has been released today! A big thank you to the team at Musa Publishing, with special thanks to my editor, Jessica Robinson, cover artist Kelly Shorten and book designer Cera Smith, for transforming the manuscript of Reunion into a polished, beautiful book.

Immortal love was never meant to be broken, but the road to restoring it is beyond imagining.

The world of Siaris has been thrown into chaos.  Xereth, still reeling from the loss of his children, has bided his time and waited years for the perfect time to exact revenge.  That time is drawing near.  Little does Xereth know, he’ll have unsolicited help along the way.

Long-dormant prejudices have surfaced among the humans and elden of Siaris, and they are turning their hate toward their Guardian protectors. Neither visions nor spell-craft can predict the mutiny being prepared in their protectorate, and when a human and Guardian fall in love the rule banning their marriage only ignites the drive to retaliate.

In the world Riana and her Guardian family protect, war has broken out, led by the man who once loved her, now Lord of the Shadow Realm. The old rules are crumbling, the spells engraved in the Guardians’ bones are breaking down.  Will Siaris and its Guardians survive the changes?

Excerpt

Strength coursed through Riana’s body as if a river had been unleashed, driving her into a sprint. She hurtled down the dark hallway, swiveling an image of the fortress around in her mind’s vision. Locking onto her position, she took an ascending passage.

She ran hard. Mottled folds of cloth whipped around her ankles. The fortress’s black walls pressed in close, dank and smothering. Her footsteps were muffled, all sounds eaten in the gloom. Her bare feet stung where they met the fierce cold of the floor. She veered around a twist in the corridor and rocked back on her heels. Eyes gleamed in front of her, colder than the stone beneath her feet.

“Riana.”

The voice slid like ice through her head. No mercy lit Maegren’s features, no hint of the knowledge she’d seen. Torchlight licked at the hem of his cloak, sent a chill line down his black feathers.

Riana forced down panic. “Maegren, let me go.”

She held herself still, but a betraying tremor touched her words. He laughed. Backing away, Riana spun about and slipped into a narrow opening to her left. She fled down a pitted slope into deeper blackness lit only by her fractured halo.

She ran until the breath caught in her lungs, until her feet began to slow. The strength she’d built was sapping from her limbs, draining from fractures in her spellsheen.

I can’t escape.

Every turn and kink in the line of the path was drawing her further into the fortress. The dark communal will at its centre closed in fast, tightening the noose. The soft mutters of the gods gnawed at the edges of her mind. Ancient decay cloyed in her nostrils. She lurched to a halt.

Impossibly, Maegren stood before her again. A vindictive smile curled his lips as he swept a low bow. The black hair framing his face swung in glittering sheets. Catching a faint blue glow at the periphery of her vision, terror knifed through Riana and sent pinpricks though her limbs. She glanced back over her shoulder, searching the darkness. In the corner of her eye, an indigo form closed in on her with predator stealth.

“Xereth,” she whispered.

Her cousin’s blue eyes narrowed, transfixing her.

Trapped.

Run to ground like a wild thing.

Sensing something else, unbelieving, she looked down. Low in her belly a point of light welled. New cells sparkled where an egg snuggled in the wall of her womb. She gasped and put a trembling hand to her body. Maegren’s suppressed sound of shock caught her ear. Reacting to Xereth’s presence, she shielded her sudden awareness with all the power she could muster. The white glow in Maegren’s eyes dulled. Weakness crept up Riana’s legs as a picture formed in front of her. She sank to her knees, oblivious to the icy bite of the floor beneath her hand. Before her stood a little boy, quite calm, his eyes shining. He held a hand out to her, one cheek dimpling.

“Mother, it will be all right.”

 

Reunion: The Siaris Quartet Book Two is available now from Musa Publishing.

galley cover

Character Column: Meet Riana

Welcome to the new weekly Character Column, a place for writers to bring along the favourite character/s from one of their novels or stories and introduce them to us! A wonderful, varied line-up of heroes, heroines and otherwise (as well as their creators) plan to drop by on Wednesday afternoons, so ‘stay tuned’.

With my new novel Reunion: The Siaris Quartet Book Two to be released in two days, I’m going to start the ball rolling with Riana, one of its lead characters and closest to my heart.

Riana was the first ‘humanlike’ character to walk – or fly – into Siaris, a storyworld that started to take shape during my childhood. Before her arrival, Siaris was the playground of winged horses, dragons and other fantastical creatures, so perhaps it wasn’t surprising that Riana entered on golden wings, with magical powers and a glorious, imperishable body made of light. She was joined by a male counterpart, her twin, and an ever-enlarging family, in this beautiful world. As on Earth, however, the peace could not last forever; high contrast spilled into Riana’s world and sought to over-run it.

Her response to the onset of violent antagonism was brave, idealistic and protective, but it was her attempts to adapt emotionally and mentally to the changes in her life (not always successfully) that endeared her to me. I have walked a very long road with Riana and her loved and not-so-loved ones, and discovered with her exactly what it would take for her to encompass the extremes of her situation, its griefs and joys, in a way that would take her beyond conflict. After all this time, it is still a thrill to travel with her and witness her evolution. Along with a few other key players, she took over the story of Siaris and writes it herself. Glimpses of her path ahead do filter through, tantalizing, and transforming…I’m glad to tag along for the ride of several lifetimes!

Riana appeared on the fringes of the first book in The Siaris Quartet, Daughter of Hope. In Reunion, we fly deep into her heartland. If you would like to know her better, Reunion will be available at Musa Publishing from Feb 8th.

medium

What a gorgeous cover!

Musa Publishing’s artist Kelly Shorten has designed this beautiful image for the cover of Reunion, second novel in my epic fantasy sequence The Siaris Quartet. Big thanks to Kelly!

Reunion will be available as an e-book from February 8. Watch this space…..

Immortal love was never meant to be broken, but the road to restoring it is beyond imagining.

 

galley cover

Monday Morsels

Monday Morsels: up to three sentences from a published work or work-in-progress which includes a word beginning with ‘m’. Luckily, Monday doesn’t being with ‘X’ or this game would be over very fast! So here it is, the first MM….

Sitia arched her pinions and leapt upward. She focused on the mountain slope rushing to meet her and tilted her wings wider, leaning into an updraft. The gray walls of Revam glinted as they dropped away, embedded crystals catching the day’s first rays.

(from Reunion: The Siaris Quartet Book Two, to be released Feb 8 by Musa Publishing)

300px-K2,_Mount_Godwin_Austen,_Chogori,_Savage_Mountain

The Next Big Thing

Thank you to my fellow writer and critiquer from Egoboo WA, Carol Ryles, for tagging me in the Next Big Thing. The game here is that writers answer a string of questions about their work, describing what will be their Next Big Thing and then tag five other writers. Those writers answer the same questions and tag other writers. So here goes:

1: What is the working title of your next book?

Reunion: Book Two of The Siaris Quartet

2: Where did the idea come from for the book?

Now that’s a Big question! The world of Siaris goes back to childhood visions and dreams, and its key characters appeared during my teen years. The material for this particular set of novels was first written between 18-29 years old, but it has needed extensive rewriting to take the leap from dramatized world history for an audience of one to a fully functional novel sequence for public viewing.

3: What genre does the book fall under?

Fantasy with a capital ‘F’; Epic, High, Dark…all of those!

4: What actors would you choose to play the parts of your characters in a movie rendition?

Hmm….juicy question.  Off the top of my head, youthful versions of French actress Emmanuelle Beart or Cate Blanchett as Riana (the heroine), Jason Isaacs as Xereth (he played Lucius Malfoy/Captain Hook), Alan Rickman as Skain (leader of the ‘fallen gods’)…oh, Johnny Depp has to be in there somewhere. Okay, he can play Maeran/Maegren, Riana’s ‘lost love’.  Angelina Jolie as Sirene (who jilted Xereth with poor results), Kristen Stewart as Sitia (Xereth’s daughter), Orlando Bloom as Aeron (Riana’s brother), Matthew McFaddyen as Ravin (the only viewpoint character who is actually human) and Salma Hayek as Lenea (the immortal Guardian he loves).

5: What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Otherwise known as a tagline: Immortal love was never meant to be broken, but the road to restoring it is beyond imagining.

6: Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Reunion will be published by Musa Publishing (USA) on February 8, 2013 ie; very soon! Musa published the first book in the quartet, Daughter of Hope, last June.

7: How long did it take to write the first draft of your manuscript?

It’s impossible to say, as the first draft was written for my own enjoyment over many years in bits and pieces. The first revision into ‘publishable novel’ form took about 8 months to write.

8: What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I can’t think of any obvious comparisons, but one reader of the first novel, Daughter of Hope, likened it to a meeting of Harry Potter and Avatar. Another reader likened the creation of ‘atmosphere’ in it to Juliett Marillier’s novels.

9:  Who or what inspired you to write this book?

Visions of a vast world, dreams of angels, and large doses of Tolkien set the ball rolling. As far as Reunion and The Siaris Quartet itself goes, the  inspiration came from finding a few hundred pages of the story in an old packing case, and the realization that it could be worked into a state where other readers might find it beautiful and/or fruitful.

10: What else about the book might pique the reader’s interest?

For readers with a passion for feathers, wings and immortals, this is the book for you! For those who dream of conversations that run like silent strings of pearls, you’re in the right place. For lovers of deep world-building and characters with heart, Reunion is for you too, with love.

Reunion: Book Two of The Siaris Quartet will be available from Musa Publishing from February 8, 2013.

2685071-single-white-bird-feather-on-black-background

If you’d like a taste test, Daughter of Hope: Book One of The Siaris Quartet can be found here.

Now to tag. To the next five, it’s your turn: Sharon Ledwith, Clarissa Johal, Liz deJesus, Author Lauren Hunter and Keith Yatsuhashi.

‘Daughter of Hope’ and her origins…

Editor and publisher, Dario Ciriello, has interviewed me about Daughter of Hope, the origins of this novel and how it is situated as part of The Siaris Quartet. Thanks for the awesome rave, Dario…and for all your advice and encouragement during Revetia’s journey to publication…no one could ask for better!

You can read the interview at Dario’s blog.

Oh My Gods (and Guardians)!

Revetia flies free today with the release of Daughter of Hope by Musa Publishing. You can follow her fortunes in her quest for freedom in this first novel of my epic fantasy The Siaris Quartet. Happy travels in the big wide world, sweetheart.

Blurb

The fate of an entire world will be decided by the actions of one young girl.

The Guardians of Siaris have been warring for thousands of years, torn apart by betrayal and lost loves. Xereth waits patiently for his chance at revenge. The only thing standing in his way is one of his own offspring.

As Xereth’s daughter, Revetia’s destiny is to help him destroy Siaris and those who wronged him, but Revetia’s will is strong. With hope and help, she might be able to break free from Xereth’s tight and treacherous grasp, but at what cost?

Sier has always tried to stay out of affairs that threaten his family’s safety. When Revetia asks him for help, she forces him into a position that could cost his family, the elden, and humans their lives. Is he prepared to put those he loves and protects in jeopardy?

With the fate of Siaris resting on Revetia’s shoulders, will her actions trigger a war between gods, slaves, and Guardians?

Excerpt

The baby blinked, trying to clear her eyes. The dim space around her lay in a chilled hush.  A strip of light filtered across the torn covers surrounding her, over an expanse of pale skin flecked with red. A long growl sounded from outside the room’s curved walls.

Wind, the baby named it.

She’d heard it – and other things – from inside her mother’s belly. Now it sounded much louder, and unfriendly. She wanted to reach for the expanse of flesh beside her, but couldn’t yet control her limbs. Her mother didn’t move. The silence of the room, the gale’s rush at the chamber, grew frightening. She shivered, a naked bundle of feverish heat and ice. She began to cry. The wind fought her voice, but she needed someone to come. Anyone.

Time dragged. The light around her stuttered and grew dull. Her hearing picked up a new sound, cautious steps husking along the hall outside the turret-room, until they came to a halt. A seamed face peered through a rectangle of darkness. Fingers clutched at the edge of a wooden frame, then jerked back as if they’d been stung. The fingers fluttered down over a worn tunic, shaking. The sound of rough breathing met the baby as a woman stepped into the room and edged closer to her.

The woman’s face shrivelled into deeper lines, her gaze roving across the bed. The picture in her mind reflected into the baby’s vision in all its blood-soaked destruction.  An elden woman lying on the shredded velvet cover, the ragged vestiges of beauty still visible through the contortion of her features. Smoke coiling in wisps from her hips and thighs, hanging thick on the air. The baby saw herself curled in a pool of light. Already, despite being so tiny, the sheen of power that had killed her mother during birth glowed out across the bed.

The baby noted her own skin was different to her mother’s. Blue. She felt the word fit itself to her…that this was her natural shade. But even so, couldn’t the bent figure creeping closer see her shock, the crisis gripping her body with shudders?

The intruder’s breath hissed. Her stare now settled on the glittering wings that rustled against the baby’s back, the downy feathers catching in the rumpled bedcover. The baby studied her, and saw that she was elden too, but diminished, improperly aged. The silence grew longer, the gale’s voice harsh. The baby huddled desperately, and fought to focus her mind on this person who still hadn’t come to her side.

She formed a question in her head, and forced it to cross the gap. Who are you?

“My name is Amya.” The woman’s voice sounded strangled, as if her throat had jammed shut.

Are you my – the baby searched for the word – nurse?

Amya didn’t reply. Her damp gaze had shifted back to the body on the bed.

Daughter of Hope can be found at Musa Publishing.

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