Hao Fei winced at the stinging in his wrists and tried to shift his bound hands into a more comfortable position. Li lay unmoving on the ground nearby, a purple lump swelling on the side of his head. He had been unconscious for some time now, and Hao had begun to fear that he wouldn’t wake. A chance to examine the injury might have eased Hao’s mind, but every time he tried to get a closer look, the pirate Li called Delicate Lotus would glower and kick at him until he moved back. Two or three additional bruises had been enough to convince the diplomat to stop trying, but what pained Hao most was the irony: that after years of dealing with Zhang's messes, he would be killed by brigands now, far from civilization and even farther from home. And every bit of it would be his fault.
The Temple of Amma was a C-shaped, white stone building tiled in clear blues from powder to midnight in mosaics and reliefs of sheep, goats, pigs, sheaves of wheat, children, mothers, looms and shuttles; its wings curved away from the Promenade, where it anchored the row of buildings leading down the Temple Green to its end at the Temple of Pagg the Father. Nestled between those wings stood the enormous Mother's House, an institutional-looking structure built around a large courtyard. By the time Twenna reached its steps, her little boots were soaked through; they were made for carriages, not for walking winter streets.
“Was that it?” Dawn asked with surprise. “I thought that a blood oath would have to involve his blood, at least.”
Ever shook her head, wrinkling her nose. “Why would I want to deal with his blood? Bleah. Mine will keep him bound well enough. You can let him go, Corrie.” She waved her hand in the air as though letting it dry; no more blood was dripping from the wound.
Corrie didn’t let go of Celao’s arm. She was frowning. “That didn’t seem complete enough to me. What if he tells someone else who could tell Belara and Feloc?”
It was strange being back on campus after a summer away. Hershel trekked down the winding sidewalk that would, eventually, encircle all of Lander. Branches would split off periodically, taking him to any destination one might please, but the main path wrapped around the whole campus, serving as both a guide and a divider from the outside world. It was comforting to trace the familiar cement walkway, it reminded him that no matter how much had gone awry last year, at least the school was still somewhat constant.
It was strange being back on campus after a summer away. Hershel trekked down the winding sidewalk that would, eventually, encircle all of Lander. Branches would split off periodically, taking him to any destination one might please, but the main path wrapped around the whole campus, serving as both a guide and a divider from the outside world. It was comforting to trace the familiar cement walkway, it reminded him that no matter how much had gone awry last year, at least the school was still somewhat constant.
The soft crackle of the fire was barely audible over Vince’s loud snores. They could have been muffled, or muted entirely, but Globe found he had no real desire to silence them. It was a comforting reminder of happier days, days when he didn’t have to knock his son out before he could be around him.
As some of my more astute Twitter followers noticed yesterday, I did an early drop for Pears and Perils. The reason for this is simple: When you submit a new book to Amazon’s publishing system it can take between 12 and 48 hours for approval. Wanting to hit my promised Monday deadline, I submitted it yesterday morning to give plenty of time. Well, Amazon must have been on their game yesterday, because by evening they’d already gotten it up and available. Yes, I could have waited until Monday anyway to tell you guys about it, but that fuck that noise.
You ever have one of those blog post ideas where you’ve got the subject matter, even know the story you want to tell, but honestly have no idea what the point of it is? Welcome to today’s post. I’m not saying it isn’t interesting, just that I always feel that any blog I put on here should serve a purpose. Advice, information, even a warning to stay away from a new kind of liquor (Yup. Still bitter about that.), there’s usually a method to my madness, a reason for tossing things on here.
You ever have one of those blog post ideas where you’ve got the subject matter, even know the story you want to tell, but honestly have no idea what the point of it is? Welcome to today’s post. I’m not saying it isn’t interesting, just that I always feel that any blog I put on here should serve a purpose. Advice, information, even a warning to stay away from a new kind of liquor (Yup. Still bitter about that.), there’s usually a method to my madness, a reason for tossing things on here.
Today’s Pears and Perils Preview was supposed to be the cover art, which I am incredibly happy with and excited about. I actually got a real graphic artist to design it, and I think he blew that thing out of the water. If anyone is looking for a solid guy to work with, shoot me and e-mail and I’ll refer you. Seriously, this guy made a great image. So great, in fact, that the file size is too big for Drupal to handle. Can’t upload to my own site. Yeah, ain’t that a bitch?
