excerpt · writing

Excerpt That Won’t Make Any Sense to Anyone Else Except Me

I have been working on the sequel to The Road of the Lost because well, I have a story to tell and it’s being told.

Anyway. I’m kinda proud of this specific portion of the latest chapter because it made me cry tears of blood. So here it is because I’m into oversharing things that make no sense except to me.

Two days stretch from dawn to dusk, uneventful for everyone except those who are on more intimate terms with time:

Irial, who logs every hour that passes, learns the prickly insides of a tragic love. Tinder notes the time that passes without news from Ceara and worries. Every minute is interminable for Aodh who waits for news from Maebh. He is torn between yearning and anger which together make for a curious kind of grief. Ceara, too, is angry but her anger is polished by a pain so sharp that Faolan has been wounded several times trying to navigate her moods as they travel from Tine into Talamh.

Saraid has decided to race time and tries to outrun the strikes of the clock. She has several meetings with Radha, the captain of her guards, and if the younger fae is left perturbed after every meeting, it is of no consequence to Saraid. She is the queen and she will command who she wants. She summons Brianna and Eamon, binds them to secrecy, and in a meeting witnessed by no one except those present, asks with rare humility for help of a kind only they can provide. The young fae understand the enormity of what she asks but their honour will not allow them to refuse. After all, it is not often that a fae queen asks for aid from her subjects.

What of Maebh? She has been waiting for so long that she has become friends with time. She knows each second takes her closer to the end and she does so enjoy the anticipation.

Croi does not care for the perambulations of the sun—she is learning to sing fire magick and stalks the kitchens because singing the rough song makes her hungry. Irial doesn’t want to see her, Tinder keeps her distance, and Caolan treats her as what she isn’t. Croi’s magicks are her only companions and if sometimes Talamh speaks a little louder than Tine, well, Croi is not listening.

From The Glory of the Dead a W.I.P.


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