She circled the room, peering and tweaking at the machines she passed, trying to make sense of them, trying to see what they did, and why, and how, and failing at every turn. “It’s not fair. There has to be a way of making use of these and making the village better.” Cadan watched her …
They both woke late the next morning, stiff and sore, and hobbled out to take a fresh day’s view of the damage. Cadan was whisked off by the group setting off to assess the Castle bridge, despite the sling easing pressure on his shoulder. Samuel collared Eleanor as an assistant scribe, making lists of missing …
Ingrid broke the spell between them. “While I’m glad these two are more-or-less whole, we still have damage to deal with. We’re going to need supplies, and soon. Who do we send to town? And how do we pay for the goods we’re going to need?” Sarah stood. “Questions for tomorrow, not tonight, and for …
The dim, golden warmth of the bath house was almost painful after their trek. Sarah shooed them towards the mid-heat tubs. “Strip and in.” Evan was tending the fire. He made a point of turning his back to them and focusing on feeding wood to the flames. Eleanor was grateful for the courtesy but still …
The dim, golden warmth of the bath house was almost painful after their trek. Sarah shooed them towards the mid-heat tubs. “Strip and in.” Evan was tending the fire. He made a point of turning his back to them and focusing on feeding wood to the flames. Eleanor was grateful for the courtesy but still …
Cadan’s chair went flying as he bolted upright, pushing her behind him, tense and ready, as he focused on the shadows in the doorway. Shadows who resolved into Matthew and Evan as they moved inside, eyeing Cadan with a mixture of surprise and caution. Matthew spoke first. “You’re alright then? We were fearing the worst.” …
She found a low-backed wooden chair and set it by the hearth. “Take off your tunic and sit down. I want to see how bad your cuts are and get them clean.” He unbelted his tunic, then pulled it, and his undershirt, off draping them over the edge of a table to help them dry. …
Cadan sat up. “There’s a place closer where we can dry off and rest.” Eleanor looked around, at the dense cover of trees and thick undergrowth. “Someone lives near here?” As they began picking their way through the undergrowth, Cadan said. “Not exactly. Lily Smith’s father liked building things, tinkering about, experimenting. Sometimes the results …
Cadan loosened his hold on her and turned so they could look around. Maybe the pool would recover, become the tranquil haven she’d glimpsed on their race against the flood, but it would take a long time and may never be quite the same, trees fallen, sloping banks gouged out, stones and debris everywhere. The …
They walked for a long time, if she’d done this straight after arriving from town, Eleanor wasn’t sure she would have made it halfway without misery and blisters. Finally, the path began to run beside a gully, containing a stream that Cadan said was the same one running past the village. He found a suitable …
The DNA of Stories 