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Daily Archives: September 10, 2013

10. The Accusation

The Unfinished Song: Initiate

…on behalf of the accusers,” Auntie Ugly said with ill-concealed relish.

“Kavio committed the most serious crime of which a Zavaedi dancer is capable. He concocted his own Pattern, a dance unknown to our ancestors. He cannot name the teacher that taught it to him, nor the society who held its secret. That is hexcraft.
“That in itself would be reason to discipline him. But on top of that, he used this Pattern for the vilest of purposes, to harm the community that bore him and to deprive his neighbors of their very livelihood.”
Kavio glanced involuntarily at Mother. He had never seen her so ashen. Though a part of him wanted to spit in Father’s face, the knowledge that he had disappointed Mother burned like chili pepper in his mouth. But no matter what happened, he’d be cursed before he’d show how he felt in front of this assemblage of vultures and jackals. Or in front of his father.
He lifted his chin and faced his accuser with his most insolent smile.
As he’d known it would, his smile infuriated Auntie Ugly. She jabbed a bony finger at him.
“Three days ago, Kavio, you went into a room here in the Laby- rinth and performed a hex that diverted a part of the river upstream from the Valley of the Aelfae. By doing so, you have lowered the water level in the fields, making it possible that not enough silt will be deposited by planting season.
“As witness, I call my own son, Zumo the Cloud Dancer.”
Kavio’s cousin, a young man of similar age, build, and height, stood. He removed his mask of blue shells. While Kavio seethed inside, Zumo repeated the lies that had led to this trial in the first place. Not that anything Zumo testified was false; his deception lay in what he didn’t say.
After Zumo, a second witness repeated the story of having found Kavio dancing alone in a kiva in the Labyrinth.
“Thank you both,” Auntie Ugly said smugly after the second wit- ness sat down again. “Kavio, do you deny these charges?”
“I don’t deny what I did,” he said. “I deny that I invented the Pattern, I deny that it was hexcraft, and I deny that it was intended to harm our people.”
When Auntie Ugly sneered at him, the anger that had been pum- meling his belly these last days bettered his sense, and he added sarcastically, “I do not deny that there are times I wish I had let you all drown.”
He knew it was a mistake as soon as he said it. The masked Tav- aedies and Zavaedies hissed and shouted.
“Zavaedi Kavio’s guilt is plain,” said Auntie Ugly. “I cast my stone with justice. I call for Kavio’s death!”
She glided to the pottery jar and pulled out a smooth, gray stone, then tossed it on the black mat.
Big surprise there, thought Kavio. You’ve always hated me, you old toad. I never even understood why.…

TO BE CONTINUED




 

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Author’s Comments
Paulo Cammeli contributed the art today. I really love his paintings. I should note, however, that there are actually no iron chains in Faearth. Their technology is neolithic. No books, no chain-mail, no swords, no saddles — although some of them do ride horses, it’s rare, and they use a hoop, not a bridle.

The Unicorn Girl by M.L. LeGette

A Fairy Tale, Coming of Age Fantasy

Leah Vindral is suffocating—trapped in her own skin.

In a land where magic is feared, magic saved her from death … but it came with a terrible price. Marked forever, she is shunned and isolated by those she loves most.

Brimming with bitter rage at those who abandoned her, Leah flees from her childhood home only to be swept into an impending war: Mora, a wicked witch, has been imprisoned for years, waiting like a spider in the folds of her web for the chance to regain the powers once stripped from her. It is there, while she waits, that she learns of a strange young girl … a girl who can speak to unicorns.

Now Leah must save the country that shuns her, for if Mora returns to power, all will be lost. But can Leah, who is so frightened and confused herself, find the strength to save them all?

Buy The Unicorn Girl on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Excerpt

Ten minutes later Ian opened the door to his room, on the second floor of a decrepit looking inn, and I sank onto a squeaky bed with a slight shiver.

“So,” Ian persisted. “Why were some bloody knights chasin’ you?”

I stared at my feet in response.

“Oh no,” said Ian, as he shut the door with a snap. “We’re not playin’ that game again.” He walked over to a chair, dragged it in front of me and turned it around backwards. He leaned on it for a minute and said abruptly, “I’ll make tea.”

I sat numbly on the bed and watched him boil water. My mind was horribly blank.

“There,” he pushed a mug of tea into my hands and sat down, wrapping his arms around the back of the chair and staring at me expectantly. “So?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

I glared at him. I could lie, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I had been running for so long, and suddenly, I couldn’t take another step. Before I had even tried to consider what might happen if I told him the truth, words spilled from my mouth.

He sat in silence, nodding occasionally as I told him everything. Flashes of the ball, Lavena, Father, King Rowan’s plan, the sickness, the recovery, the elves, the monsters with red eyes, and Mora all sped through my brain and out of my mouth. His eyes darkened at the mention of Mora and his mouth tightened, but he didn’t stop my narrative.

“And I just saw Sir William Shanklin tell King Rowan what he learned from Mora and now he’s looking for me. He’ll use me to find them, I’m sure of it—that is if Mora doesn’t get to me first. But I don’t know where the unicorns are and I’m tired of running!”

Ian rose from his chair and walked to a grimy window with his back to me.

“We’ll just have to find them then, won’t we,” he said finally.

“What?”

He turned to me, his face set.

“The unicorns. We’ve got to find them. You’re the only one who can talk to them, so you’re the only one who can warn them. We’ll have to leave now though. I’m sure King Rowan will have the whole city searched by mornin’.”

“Yes, but what’s with all this we business?”

“What? Didn’t you know? I’m coming with you.” Ian grabbed a sack, walked to the door, opened it and headed down the hall as I followed him.

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.”

I glared at him.

“My dear Leah, I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my stubborn side,” he said with a smile as he started down the stairs.

“But—but what about your future and all that?” I asked desperately as I hurried to catch up with him.

“My mother gave me one piece of advice as I left our humble home,” Ian said conversationally, “She said, ‘Don’t you follow anything mysterious!’ And you, Leah, are the most mysterious thing I’ve ever met.”“But your mother told you not to!”

We were outside once again and mounting our horses.

“Yes, and you might also need to know that I always do the exact opposite of what my mother wants,” Ian said, and with that he started off at a gallop, with Iris and I following in his wake.

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