Kate is dreaming...
A brief snippet for the crowd...
Kate knew she was dreaming, but fought not to wake up. Her head rested on the lap of her oldest brother, Jerin, and he sang her the Song of Larian, even the verses her mother said were too gruesome. On the other side of the wagon, wrapped in furs so that only his eyes and nose were visible, lay her youngest brother, Diu, who was just two years older than she. His poor nose was red and raw from the chill he'd taken on the road, and Nurse fed him foul potions every hour to drive the illness out. Gion, her middle brother, sat at the end of Diu's sickbed with his long legs stretched across to the bench so that Kate's feet rested on his ankles. Ever since a misting rain had begun, Nurse had ordered all four of them to ride in the wagon out of the weather, and though it was crowded and damp they humored her. It was only a short ride from the inn to the summer palace. Sometimes Gion even joined in a verse with Jerin, and Kate smiled at the harmonies.
Or perhaps she smiled because she was dreaming, and their voices were sweet and true and real to her ears. She didn't remember whether she had been smiling or not when it had been real, when the wagon ground to a halt on the muddy ground. Gion had been laughing. She remembered that very clearly, his head thrown back, mouth open wide, long curls coming loose from the tie at the back of his head. The killing star came in at a diagonal, slicing the canvas of the wagon's sides and thence into leather and flesh. In a flash of silver the blade opened Gion's throat over the bedfurs and flew on, embedding itself in the wooden frame around the door.
Maybe I'll post more to the Writing Filter later. (If you don't see posts with [Writing Filter] in the subject line, you're not on it. Comment to join.)
Kate knew she was dreaming, but fought not to wake up. Her head rested on the lap of her oldest brother, Jerin, and he sang her the Song of Larian, even the verses her mother said were too gruesome. On the other side of the wagon, wrapped in furs so that only his eyes and nose were visible, lay her youngest brother, Diu, who was just two years older than she. His poor nose was red and raw from the chill he'd taken on the road, and Nurse fed him foul potions every hour to drive the illness out. Gion, her middle brother, sat at the end of Diu's sickbed with his long legs stretched across to the bench so that Kate's feet rested on his ankles. Ever since a misting rain had begun, Nurse had ordered all four of them to ride in the wagon out of the weather, and though it was crowded and damp they humored her. It was only a short ride from the inn to the summer palace. Sometimes Gion even joined in a verse with Jerin, and Kate smiled at the harmonies.
Or perhaps she smiled because she was dreaming, and their voices were sweet and true and real to her ears. She didn't remember whether she had been smiling or not when it had been real, when the wagon ground to a halt on the muddy ground. Gion had been laughing. She remembered that very clearly, his head thrown back, mouth open wide, long curls coming loose from the tie at the back of his head. The killing star came in at a diagonal, slicing the canvas of the wagon's sides and thence into leather and flesh. In a flash of silver the blade opened Gion's throat over the bedfurs and flew on, embedding itself in the wooden frame around the door.
Maybe I'll post more to the Writing Filter later. (If you don't see posts with [Writing Filter] in the subject line, you're not on it. Comment to join.)