If you missed the first part of Chapter One, you can find it HERE. You can find Part Two HERE. Today I'll be posting Chapter One Part Three of Thorn Changer. If you want to see the copyright/disclaimer page, go to the Amazon page and click on the picture of Thorn Changer for the Look Inside option, and scroll up (this also gives you a chance to see the beautiful detail of the cover).
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Excerpt from Thorn Changer by Christy Reed
As she winged her way inland, Skey watched the bustling
harbor beneath her. Fish and salt wafted up on the breeze as a boat of
fishermen dragged in the night’s catch. A few ships waited outside for the
harbor to empty. More ships were loading on cargos.
“Come on there,” the captain of the ship she was flying over
shouted to his crew. They struggled to push a crate up the ramp. “Be putting
some muscle into your work. I’ve not got all day to see you lads make fools of
yourselves. You—”
Skey shrieked as she soared over him. He shook a fist at
her. “You dumb bird. Why don’t you work yourself instead of leaving the better
folks to do it? If I had my harpoon with me, you’d be singing a different tune.”
She continued on, trying not to chuckle, trying not to wince
at the fire burning through her shoulder. The captain bristled with anger. “Argh,
you dumb bird. I’ll see you over a cook fire yet.” A cry sounded below. Her
laughter came out a screech as the crate slipped back down the ramp. This time
his fist shook at the men. “Argh. You fools. Didn’t I tell you to hurry?” He
struck the rail. “You’re slower than sea slugs. We don’t have time for your
games.”
She made her way to a rocky alcove farther up the shore. Green
flashed before her. She gasped, clutching her throbbing shoulder. If she hadn’t
reached the ship, she’d never have made it.
Tide pools hid among the rocks here. She squatted down,
tearing another strip from her cloak. She let it soak in the salt water as she
undid the bandage. The wound was swollen, red, but the bleeding had stopped. She
wrung out the strip from the pool, and bit back a scream as the salt burned
into her flesh. It would kill infection, help it heal better. At least, that’s
what Zeino had told her.
She poured more of the herb mixture into her hand. Even less
was left now. She made a paste again, and smeared it onto her shoulder before
binding it up with a fresh strip from her cloak. Zeino had also told her that
the herbs minstrels used to soak their hands in after a long day of playing
made a good wound poultice.
Strange, how you knew
so much about this…
The throb stilled to a dull ache. She looked back across the
sea. Fog rolled over the horizon, blocking out the islands she’d rested on
after leaving the ship, blocking out Arilan. The tension in her shoulders
relaxed a little. She had made it. Cinote would never find her here. She was
finally free. Free of Arilan for good. Her hand reached up, and took out the
double hoop earring in her left ear. She threw it as hard as she could.
It glistened in the sun before it plinked into the cove
waters. She didn’t look like most Arilians, and she’d heard enough of the
Beolkin accent at court, she could probably fake it. Now no one would guess she
was Arilian here.
She stopped as she entered the market square. The buzzing of
shopkeepers hawking their wares filled her head. Only a few people were milling
about the stalls right now, but that would increase soon. What should she do
now? Where would she find an inn? Her fingers touched her harp. The strings
whispered hope as she ran her hand over them.
She spied the tavern on the edge of the square, and started
past the carts and wagons loaded with late autumn produce and other wares. There
was no reason to limit herself to common folk singing. Maybe she could get a
place at one of the nobles’ castles. Hadn’t she sung for the emperor?
She rounded the last of the wagons, and started across the
edge of the packed earth. The tavern was only yards away. The scent of bread
and beer filled the air, as two men hurried out the doors, each going a
different way. A hand grabbed her shoulder just as she passed one of the men. Fire
sped through it. She bit her cheek to keep in the scream. Cinote couldn’t have…
She looked back.
The figure wore a cloak with the hood up, but by the grip of
the purple-gloved hand and the size it had to be a man. Dark eyes peered out
from under the hood, glinting in the morning light…were they red? “I’ve great
need to talk with you.”
She shook the hand off her shoulder, and stepped back. A
sword hung at his belt, but it was heavier than those she’d seen the Beolkins
or Arilians wield. His clothes didn’t speak of Arilan. And Cinote had never
done a particularly great job of hiding his men.
Still, there was something in his manner, in the way his
right hand, the glove covered in odd old symbols, hung by his side, in the way
his eyes never left hers, that choked her breath. “With me? Why?”
“It doesn’t matter why,” his eyes darted to her left temple.
“It’s enough for you to know that I do.”
Her heart turned to ice. Whether he looked it or not, only
Cinote’s men would know of the birthmark.
She turned away. “I’m afraid that’s not good enough for me. You’ll
have to find someone else to listen to you.”
He grabbed her wrist. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”
Skey’s boot slammed down into his shin.
She yanked away as his grip slackened, and darted into the
growing crowd. Her heart echoed her boots against the earth. How had Cinote
figured out she was here so quickly? How did he know where she was going?
He must have found that dratted map.
She knew she shouldn’t have circled Beolki.
She dodged through the carts, running in a zigzag fashion. Hopefully
with the growing crowd, he’d lose track of her. She slipped out of the square
on the opposite side from where the tavern was, and trotted down the alley,
forcing her breath to calm. She rounded the building, and flattened herself
against the wall as she peered around the corner. The square still bustled with
people, but no one headed this way.
She leaned back against the wall, letting out a long sigh. She
pulled the cloth headband over her temple. She should’ve known better than
leaving that exposed. “He’s gone.”
“Trying to avoid someone, are we?”
Skey stiffened, and turned. A man stood with his hand on the
knob of the door behind him, regarding her with mild curiosity. Like most of
the people in the market, and like Skey herself, he wore a cloak pulled close
against the chill. Unlike the other man who had spoken to her, though, his hood
was thrown back, clearly revealing his angled features. His square jaw was
tensed, but a half-smile played around his mouth. It was his cerulean blue eyes
that told her he was wary of her.
She crossed her arms, wincing as the harp rubbed against the
bandage on her shoulder. “Should I be avoiding someone?”
A chuckle escaped, as he stored a scroll in his belt pouch. “You
tell me. Why would anyone be after you?”
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Chapter One Part Four will be available tomorrow.
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