Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Story Chain!

Deana Barnhart's Blogfest is alive and kicking!

For Week 2, a gang of fellow writers are conswirling our creative consciousnesses in a blog-o-sphere story chain. How fun!

My assignment: "This is the crisis point. So give it to us!" I have to use the words cliff, shout, and tooth pick somewhere in my piece of the chain.


Here's my contribution for Week 2:

 Story Chain

Find out what went before: by Rachel Dillon

"Trapped?" gaped Dio. "What do you mean? And seriously, how do you speak dead?"

Roddern looked at her sadly but only said, "The Front Guard fae should be arriving soon. Don't speak too--"

The blue ghost of her father stiffened. It was odd to see, like a cloud coalescing into a solid. Then the ghost disappeared.

In his place were two dark-clad elves, warriors with stern faces and yellow eyes. The torchlight flickered, illuminating their pupils: a shocking green, like the color of Dio's pendant.

"We seek the High Council for audience," said Roddern immediately as they gazed at him. The laughter had gone from his voice, and Dio felt her breath catch in her throat. If he could speak to the ghost of her father, was it because he, too, was...? She couldn't finish the thought.

The taller elf, whose hand smoothly played with the fletching of an arrow, gave a sly smile and glanced at Dio. "They heard she was arriving," he said in a voice soft as moonlight on the flat surface of a polished stone. "They know what she wants."

Roddern shook is head in warning, but too late. Dio pushed forward. What did she want? A new name, her purple book, vengeance against Tony and Sandy for tricking her--"My parents," she said, knowing that it was her true and single wish. She heard Roddern hiss angrily, even as the sly smile pulled into a full, mirthless grin on the elf's strong, handsome face. A row of gleaming teeth appeared in his mouth, sharp as tooth picks. "Where are they?" Dio demanded, hating that smile, clutching the pendant under her t-shirt. "You know where they are!"

Something was happening to the trees. They shimmered first, as if made of water or moonlight, then vanished altogether. The grounded rumbled, trembling, crackling, splintering beneath her feet.

Dio gave a shout and leapt back as a tree root shot upward like a dagger just where she'd been standing. She grabbed Roddern's arm, yanking him with her as she concentrated on lifting off the ground, flying once more.

And a good thing she did: her feet now hovered inches over the mouth of a deep chasm. Where the two Front Guard fae had been standing, there was now only a ragged cliff, bald and sad-looking in the broken darkness.


Find out what's happening next: by An Alleged Author