#6 Dark

16 Aug 2011 2 Comments

by Stephanie Ciofalo in Uncategorized

 

 

 

This isn't a post quite like the others. It's a snippet from my second novel, Lost Sunrise. Sorry it's late. And I hope the formatting turned out all right. Word Press is acting wonky for me today.
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It was pitch dark inside.  Nonetheless, “Hello, Sialla,” Teryx greeted quietly as the canvas of the door flap closed behind her.  “Please excuse me if I don’t get the door for you.  It’s not much of a door, anyway.”

“How did you know it was me?” She took one step to the side of the entrance and seated herself comfortably on the ground, legs folded before her. 

“Saw your outline in the doorway. Rilyn and Adarran are both taller,” he said matter-of-factly. 

"Oh." 

"I also long ago determined that what fates there were had a cruel sense of irony. So naturally they would go and send the one person I didn't want to see right now." It felt very much like he was trying to keep his tone lighthearted and easy. 

"I could just leave then." Sialla pressed palms to the rough dirt floor in preparation to push herself up but stopped. "Why would it be me you didn't want to see?" 

He laughed but it was a mirthless sound. The little bard was glad she couldn't see his face. "I want to be angry, Sialla. I need to be angry. And you?" He sighed. "You, I can't be angry with, no matter how I try." 

"Thanks. I think." The lull in conversation was much more comfortable than it should have been. 

"There's something else," Teryx finally said. 

She shifted where she sat. When had the ground gotten so hard? Should she tell him? Why hadn't Adarran told him? She snorted inwardly at this last: Adarran hadn't told him because Adarran didn't talk to anyone if he didn't have to. The Sunfolk diplomacy in her wanted accord; it wanted the two men to get along, to work together. In this case, telling him the truth would accomplish that, she decided.  Maybe not all of it, though.  He didn't need to know how sick the old woman was.  "Adarran has..." she began hesitantly, leaning towards the source of his voice, "...he has reasons." 
"Oh yeah? I'd love to hear them. Wait, don't tell me: they're holding his family hostage, right? That's always a good one. But since those would be Seafolk, they're what? Threatening to drain the oceans and send them all running onto the land? Do tell me, Sialla." 

"Stop," she answered. "Why do you have to be so..." 

"Bitter? Am I sounding bitter, Sialla? I am so sorry," he concluded sarcastically. "I forgot we were sitting here over a nice afternoon tea, trading stories." Teryx sighed. "Just tell me why." 

Well, he did only say that he couldn't be angry with you, not that he wasn't angry, she thought. Sialla had no trouble keeping any thoughtless retorts in check. A heartbreaking tremor, faint but unmistakable to her musically trained ears, threaded through the man's voice and stayed any harsh reactions on her part. He was afraid. Not only afraid, she suspected, but also feeling quite betrayed by his new friend. Maybe she could alleviate some of that. In a soft, emotionless voice she told him, "They do have his mother."

 

 

 

 

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