Swords, Sails + Scoundrels: Zeeb's Zephyrus

Is it just me, or is anyone else feeling like the year is going past so fast? 

There was Camp NaNo in April and then again in July, and then there's actual NaNo in November which is coming up WAY TOO FAST. (And I still have no clue what in the world I'm even doing)

And we've done twenty chapters of this story already. Which is very exciting.

It wasn't hard to tell which option one for Lost from the Light. I mean, when there's 9 votes for option three...it's really not hard to see where it's going.

And I had lots of fun writing it. Hopefully I don't get into more trouble for being a mean author. ;P

Enjoy!

I threw myself to the side, tearing loose for long enough to scream. “Warin!”

Hands grabbed at me, pulling backward, smothering my mouth before I could shout again. Kicking and struggling against them, I bit down on the hand over my mouth.

With a yell it withdrew and I launched forward, slipping away from the grasping hands. “Warin! Gripper! Help!”

A tall figure was beside me in a moment, sword catching the faint starlight. Warin pulled me back from the charging shadows of men.

“Get behind the others,” he ordered, stepping forward to meet the attack.

I scrambled backward, hearing the clash of blades as Warin drove the men back easily.

The rest of the crew was running forward, weapons in hand.

The attackers wouldn’t last long.

Ducking behind the crewmen, a muffled shout made me spin.

A large figure was silhouetted above the cliff, swinging a fist at a lanky shadow.

“Gypsy Boy,” I gasped, running forward.

Altin was struggling against the man but he couldn’t escape. I threw myself onto the figure’s back, sending him staggering to the ground.

He rolled, crushing my arm beneath him, and I screamed for help again.

A knife blade flashed above.

I brought my knee up, jamming it into the man’s stomach with as much force as I could, hearing the gasp.

Jerking to the side, I struggled free, scrambling out of reach as he started to rise.

Gypsy Boy grabbed up a discarded sword, bringing the flat of the blade down hard on the back of the man’s head.

With a grunt he collapsed flat again.

I stood panting for a moment.

Altin’s dark blue eyes met mine. “Louise, you sa—”

“Don’t address her as if you were her equal,” Warin interrupted, stepping in between us. “‘My lady’ will do for you.”

The dark jaw clenched. “Sorry, my lady,” he muttered, turning away.

I felt a twinge of regret.

“Did they hurt you?” Warin asked, sheathing his sword with a quick movement.

I shook my head. “Not really,” I managed, licking my strangely dry lips.

“It was close. If you hadn’t been so watchful they might have easily killed some of the men.” Warin’s hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Who were they?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder to the dark sea past the cliff edge.

“Pirates. I don’t know whose crew.” Warin narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think they knew who we were either.”

“Are you all right, lass?” Gripper came up behind me, resting a hand on my shoulder.

I cracked a small smile. “Fine thanks.”

He nodded, patting my back reassuringly and turning aside.

“Did they all run?” I glanced up at Warin.

He was scanning the tree line. “I don’t know. I don’t like it, honestly. Something doesn’t feel right about this whole thing.” Moving toward the scene of the short fight, he bent, picking up a torn strip of fabric, sliced by a sword from someone’s cloak. “There’s only one reason they’d come after only you or Gypsy Boy.”

I looked over my shoulder again, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling.

“Why?” I breathed, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

“Slaves.” Warin’s voice held a bitter edge, his eyes fixed, unfocused, on the ground.

A shadow moved behind him, just under the trees, and I stiffened.

“Warin,” I said slowly.

He drew in a sighing breath and glanced up.

“I think there’s—”

Following my gaze, he turned. Right into a sword blade.

It pierced into his upper arm, where moments ago it would have gone right into his back

I screamed, stumbling back as figures rushed for me.

Slaves.

No.

Dropping to the ground, I tried to scramble into the underbrush, but my burnt hands tore agony across my vision, my arms collapsing beneath me and sending me sprawling.

Rough arms dragged me up, running instantly, slapping through bushes and ferns. I struggled and yelled, trying to break free.

“Shut her up, will ye?” a voice snarled from my right.

“Yessir,” One of the men holding me replied, wrapping a hand over my mouth.

I couldn’t breathe.

What were they going to do to me?

“That’s better.” The pirate’s voice seemed distant and echoing. “Soon as we get ‘er back to the Zephyrus, we can teach her a lesson on keeping her mouth shut, eh?”

“Cap’in Zeeb always does,” another voice chuckled.

The sound bounced inside my skull, the spinning and blurring around me.

I couldn’t breathe.

Maybe I would just die now and save them the trouble.


Something hard nudged my stomach.

“D’ya think it’s alive?”

“Aye, she’s a breathing. Ye don’t breath when yer dead.”

“I still think ye squeezed her a bit too ‘ard.”

The hard thing nudged me again and I swam up from the sea of unconsciousness.

Where was I?

Hard boards rubbed against my cheek, rocking with the familiar motion of waves.

Waves.

My eyes jolted open, and I gasped for air. Standing over me, a group of roughly dressed pirates broke into a chorus of ‘I told ye so’s and slapped each other on the back.

“She’s alive,” one proclaimed. “I’ll tell the Cap’in.”

A tall man reached out his arm, blocking the way. “On the contrary. I’ll tell the Captain. Who do ye think is the first mate here?” The voice was a deadly calm.

The pirate stepped back. “Sorry sir,” he muttered. “Jest got excited, like.”

“All very well,” the first mate growled, his voice low.

Slaves.

They thought I was going to be their slave.

I couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

Warin wouldn’t let them.

I pushed myself into a sitting position, glaring up at the pirates. “You will regret this,” I said. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

A hand grabbed my collar, hauling me to my feet. I was spun around by a rough hand to face a brawny crewman. “Don’t worry, girl, we’re not scared of you.”

“You’re cowards. All of you.” I couldn’t control the anger that was welling furiously.

“If you think a skinny lass in boy’s clothes is going to make us tremble in fear, think again.” The man let loose a bellow of laughter.

“Here’s Cap’in,” one of the others warned, stepping away to the side.

A man dressed in an embroidered waistcoat and tricorn hat pushed forward, hand resting on the ornate hilt of his sword.

“So this is our girl, eh?” the man glanced toward the first mate.

He nodded. “Aye, Captain Zeeb. All yours.”

The Captain looked me up and down. “A fair catch,” he murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “She’ll make a fine addition to our coffers. Should be able to find a rich lady wanting another serving maid.”

“Stop it,” I said, the words slipping between my lips before I could stop them.

He paused, eyebrows raising. “Stop what?”

“All of you. You keep calling me a catch, but I’m not. And I’m not yours either.” The anger bubbled higher inside me.

“Ah but you are. Finders keepers.” He shrugged carelessly.

“I am not,” I shouted, stepping toward him. “I am not yours, or anyone’s and if you don’t take me back right now, you will have more trouble than you bargained for.”

“Bah,” Captain Zeeb snorted contemptuously. “We are pirates miss. Your words do not worry us.”

“Captain Wielder will come after you,” I said, the words burning with fury. “And he will catch you, and rescue me. Do you know why? It’s not because I am his. But because I am his friend.”

A murmur rippled around the crewmen at the mention of Warin. The Captain stepped forward, crossing his arms firmly.

“You are trying to fool us. You do not know Wielder. He makes no friends of commoners.” He dismissed my words with a wave of his hand.

“That’s just where you’re wrong,” I hissed. “He does actually, and I am his friend. He will make you more than sorry for what you’ve done.”

Captain Zeeb glanced sidelong at his murmuring crew, a film of uncertainty over his eyes.

I took my chance. “See.” I turned to the crewmen. “You know the stories of Captain Wielder. Would you be willing risk that I’m lying? What if I wasn’t? Because I’m not. He’s coming for me as we speak.”

I knew the words were true.

He would come.

Captain Zeeb hesitated another long moment. “Very well,” he said at last.

My shoulders relaxed. It was going to work.

“Someone take her down to the hold. We need to get her to the mainland and sell her as fast as we can.” Captain Zeeb turned toward the tiller.

“No!” I shouted. “You can’t—”

A gag was whipped over my mouth, ropes yanking my hands behind my back. I struggled against the hands but couldn’t escape as they dragged me down into the black hold of the ship.

“Have fun,” a pirate chuckled as he slapped the hatch down again.

҉

1. A scratch of noise came from the blackness, moving closer with shuffling steps.

2. I twisted my arms, working at the knots around my wrists. If they thought I was going to sit here waiting, they had the wrong idea altogether.

3. “Louise? Great whales, they caught you too?” Gripper’s voice came muffled in the still air.

҉

To be honest, I don't think I even have a favourite this week, so I'm really looking forward to seeing what you all choose. Hope you liked this week's chapter! (Oh and did you notice how I handily came up with a random dude called Zeeb just so I could title this beginning with 'Z'?)

Fair Winds!

|| Jane Maree ||

Swords, Sails + Scoundrels: Lost From the Light

Twenty chapters. Can you believe it? We've already done so many.

And there's still quite a few left to go yet.

I'm guessing that SS+S is probably going to end up the longest of my serial stories, because there's still so much more that has to happen before I can even start thinking about ending.

Judging Justly got a pretty obvious majority for option three, so it was back to the Darkness with Louise. (And I'm the one who will get in trouble for being mean to her again. No, don't worry. I liked option three too :P)

Something cold as ice wrapped around my legs, dragging me down. Into Darkness.

I screamed, the sound wrenching violently from my throat.

Falling, slipping, downwards. I couldn’t see anything but black.

Nothing but Darkness.

I landed on something hard, my burnt hands pressed against a freezing stone floor. A small relief.

For a moment I didn’t dare raise my eyes from the grey stones. Panting, my throat dry with terror, I slowly tipped my head up.

The faint light I could see by came from nowhere, simply shimmering around me like from a sunbeam.

All else was Darkness.

Pushing myself up, I skidded back slowly until my back touched against a cold wall.

Where was this?

A slow dripping of water echoed from the far right, the only sound other than my own rasping breath.

“You have brought it...”

I jerked back at the voice, my head scraping against the stones of the wall. Jumping to my feet, I searched the Darkness desperately.

“Who are you?” I asked, trying to make my voice firm and commanding.

“This cannot happen like this. You are His brother. You could not have such—”

I spun in the direction of the voice but it seemed to be coming from all directions at once. “Stop it,” I yelled, barely controlling the swelling panic that rose in my chest. “Who is that, and where am I?”

“This cannot be...” The voice sounded confused, and angry.

And something else that I couldn’t identify.

“What can’t be?” I gritted, pressing back into the wall as the Darkness seemed to swirl around me.

“You. You cannot be.”

Choking down a scream, I laid my burnt palms on the cool stone, trying to calm down.

It was just another of those dreams.

“Except I am.” I licked my lips nervously. “So what are you going to do about it?”

A deeper shade of Darkness twisted out from the black. Darker still than the rest. Fear clenched my throat and I couldn’t have screamed even if I could find breath to do so.

The Darkness shaped into a man. Tall, a flowing cloak twisting and lashing from his shoulders as if it were alive, a deep hood completely obscuring his face.

Dark himself.

Terror locked my legs. I could barely think.

Then the hood slipped back a way and I almost saw two black orbs of eyes.

Drainers of light.

A glance and light would fade.

But before those eyes touched mine my knees crumpled and I found myself on the floor. Liquid fear flooded my mind, blocking out all rational thought.

I couldn’t fight this.

How could anyone fight this?

“There is no hope...” The words crept down through the Darkness like snakes.

“No,” I said, clenching my jaw. “There’s always—” I couldn’t get the words out.

What was the point of saying it anyway?

Leonora had said something about that once. There was always...something.

Always...

Always...

What was there always?

I couldn’t remember anymore.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

Maybe it was hopeless. Hadn’t I thought so myself so many times?

How had I ever thought I could do this?

My hand, resting on the floor before my eyes, blinked with the faint light, dimming slightly.

“Wait.” I had to fight to get the word out. “Before you said something wasn’t right.”

Dark hissed viciously, the Darkness around him writhing at the sound. “There was never hope for you.”

“Never think something is hopeless, Louise. If you give up before you even start trying, it’s just wasted everything.”

Leonora’s face swam across my vision, an earnest look in her eyes.

“No.”  I pushed up from the floor, standing shakily but keeping my eyes low.

I couldn’t risk meeting those of Dark.

“No. I think you’re—” My breath came in gasps, every word an effort. “You’re—not—right—”

The light around me burst brighter, barely, but it did. For a moment I saw the stone floor a metre from my feet and then a scream pierced my ears, tearing pain seeming to shred my very self apart.

I staggered back, my only thought to escape.

To escape that sound.

Something wrapped around my waist, pulling me forward, the smell of salt and grease filling my nostrils. I flailed wildly, struggling against the pull.

I couldn’t give in.

Something knocked me sprawling on the ground.

It was damp and grassy.

“Lass, it’s just me. Come back ‘ere, lass.” Hands touched my shoulders, gently shaking.

It wasn’t Dark anymore.

Stars blinked in the sky high above, the shadowed face of Gripper leaning over, twisted anxiously. 

“You okay, lass?” the sailor asked again.

I swallowed, my whole body shaking uncontrollably. “I—” The words stuck in my throat.

“What happened?” Gripper’s voice was tight. “Ye almost slipped straight off...” he left the words hanging, nodding his head forward.

I pushed up and a scream almost shuddered through my lips again.

A bare pace away from my feet, the ground dropped off into nothing.

Scrabbling backward away from the drop, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the cliff edge. I had almost fallen? My breath gasped, heart throbbing in my chest.

How almost?

“Capt’in?” the rough voice came from a way behind. “You alright?”

“Fine,” Warin’s reply came through gritted teeth, and I could hear his heavy breathing even with the distance.

I stood, leaning on Gripper for support, my mind numbly trying to understand.

What had happened in the Darkness?

Had I somehow hurt Dark?

Maybe even...could I hope that perhaps I had...

I shoved the thoughts away. I couldn’t have destroyed him...it so easily.

“Louise,” Warin was beside me, eyes blinking away exhaustion. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” The word came out croaked and barely audible. I coughed, swallowing several times before trying again. “I’m alright.”

Warin looked at me for a moment, eyes searching.

“It...it happened again,” I managed in a whisper.

He nodded slowly. “I saw.”

“How long back do we have, Cap?” Gripper asked.

Warin turned to his crewmen, gathered around or slumped, resting, on the ground. “Too far,” he said, the words short. “We won’t make it.”

“Do you think Rantu’s after us?” another sailor asked, fiddling with the hilt of his sword.

“Undoubtedly,” Warin said. “But we can’t keep up this pace all the way. Half an island is far enough.”

“They’ll catch up,” I said, my voice quavering even with the whispered words.

Warin’s eyes fell on me. “Yes,” his reply came soft. “They will.”

It was all my fault, I knew. If he hadn’t spent all his energy carrying me halfway across the island he could keep going.

“You can leave me,” I said, pushing down the half of me that was screaming “No! Don’t leave me behind!”

“No.” Warin shook his head before I even finished. “I’m not leaving you any more than I would leave behind Gripper or any other member of the crew.”

A growl of assent came from the surrounding crew.

“You’re one of us now,” someone grunted. “We as look after our own.”

Beyond the fear and pain I felt a surge of something.

Something undefinable.

But something good.

I was one of them.

A weak laugh bubbled up my throat, and I felt it shake through my shoulders. “What’ll Leonora say?” I asked, my breath catching on a half sob half giggle.

“I doubt there will be much she can say,” Warin said, a faint smile brushing his own features.

The crewman holding Altin over his shoulder crouched, lowering the unconscious Gypsy Boy to the ground. “Can we risk a rest?” he rumbled the question.

“We have to,” Warin replied tiredly.

A strand of hair fell into my eyes but I couldn’t be bothered to brush it away, my hands aching dully as they were.

Gripper pulled his jacket off, draping it over my shoulders. “Come, lass,” he murmured into my ear. “You’ll need to sleep. Not even the Capt’in can keep going forever, even though sometimes that can be hard t’ believe,” he added the last with a slight smile.

“We need to rest. There’s still a fair way to go.” Warin’s voice seemed to come through a fog. “Three on watch at all times.”

The jacket over my shoulders was warm and I let myself slump slowly to the ground, eyes slide shut, dropping off to sleep.

A minute later, I came awake with a jerk, gasping for breath.

Dark.

He’d been standing there, as if waiting for me to sleep again. Waiting. Watching.

I couldn’t sleep.

Not now.

Pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around them, I clamped my bottom lip between my teeth.

The shadows around me were like creeping Darkness.

At any moment they would change shape into Dark himself.

I couldn’t bare this much longer.


It shouldn’t be possible. How can She hold such power?


I jolted to my feet, pulling Gripper’s jacket tight around my shoulders.

Clenching my jaw, I stepped lightly over the legs of a sailor, moving to the edge of the tree line, leaning my cheek against the rough bark.

“Please,” I breathed, feeling the touch of a soft breeze on the back of my neck. “Please if there’s someone out there who can help. I think I need it.”

The wind sighed through the leaves and I turned my back to the trunk, sliding down to hunch at the bottom.

The opposite of Dark was Light.

If Dark was an actual thing, who says there wasn’t a Light?

“Light if—if you’re there, could you—” I stopped. 

It was ridiculous. What was I expecting to happen?

I let a long sigh slip through my lips.

It was cut short before I could finish, a rough hand snapping down over my mouth.

“This one’ll do, eh?”

҉

1. Before I could even think about struggling, something hit the back of my head and everything went black.

2. “She’ll be a fine enough prize,” a second voice snarled in reply.

3. I threw myself to the side, tearing loose for long enough to scream. “Warin!”

҉

I posted a little later on in the day than normal because it was my brother's birthday yesterday so I couldn't do my normal half-morning of writing the story and blog post. So instead I wrote the story in the evening (and...it may have gotten a little late before I was done) and the blog post this morning.

And I've now finally discovered how Louise is actually ever going to defeat the baddies and everything. That's rather nice.

Anyway, I think that's about it then.

Fair Winds!

|| Jane Maree ||

The Rise of Aredor - A Book Review

So recently I got invited to this Goodreads discussion board thing. 

I know, right. I've just got such a way with words. (Sometimes I wonder how in the world I ever became a writer.)

But anyway. On this board (Christian Book Reviews) there's a place where a bunch of authors (mostly indie (for those who don't know, that means self-published) I think) are offering their books for free in exchange for an honest review.

Naturally I was totally in.

I mean, DID YOU JUST SAY FREE BOOKS?

Free books turn me into an evilly cackling maniac.

My first book was The Rise of Aredor by Claire M. Banschbach. And no, I have no clue how to pronounce her surname. To be honest, I've been putting off even thinking about trying.

And so I was super excited to get the ebook (because FREE BOOKS PEOPLE) and I read it in the next three days. It even got four pretty stars. Wherefore I decided to post the review on my blog because...why not?

The blurb:

Lost in a foreign land and separated from his family, Corin does his best to survive as a slave in the household of a Calorin lord. With newfound friends he fights for survival in ambushes and wars. For one act of bravery, he is awarded his freedom and returns to a home that has been invaded and ravaged by the Calorin armies. 

When Corin sets foot on Aredor's shores, he has one goal in mind: find his family. He is driven into the forest, where he is reunited with childhood friends. From the shelter of the woods, they begin a spirited rebellion against Corin's former cruel master, who now holds sway over Aredor. 

Follow Corin's path in his quest to free his imprisoned brother, find a father who has vanished, and ultimately free his country in The Rise of Aredor. (Dun dun dun dunnnnn) 

(note: that bit wasn't in the original blurb. I added it. For no particular reason as far as I know at this stage. I've just always wanted too.)

'Kay. Where to start? A review...get your thoughts into a pile of radioactive junk, Jane, the readers wanna hear a review (maybe...do you? Or are you just gonna skip over the post?). I rather enjoyed this. The overall plot and story was really pretty cool.

Corrin/Hamid (uh-huh, he has two names. Kinda cool actually) was an interesting main character. At first he wasn't quite realistic and I didn't connect with him as much as I wanted to but then around 1/4 of the way through I started connecting with him. And he was great after that. And his Robin Hood stage - just epic. At the moment, most everything Robin Hood gets me interested. (I am kinda writing my own retelling so...)

The plot was cool, and quite original and page-turning. The entire beginning felt a bit like a side-track and it dragged out a bit. Possibly one of the factors in that was because I'd been expecting the entire plot to be mostly just re-taking Aredor when that only really started in the second half, but it was still all cool.

The writing style itself felt a bit forced every now and then, but alright overall. The part that threw me a bit was some of the battle scenes in the first half where they sounded a bit like a detailed history book. But mostly, it was fine.

The characters were reasonably well written. The backstory and friendships everyone had, and how that effected their lives was amazingly detailed for several of them (Aiden and Corrin, I'm looking at you). In the second half I got a little confused with all the new names popping up everywhere and I couldn't keep track of who was who, but that might just be my brain. (Or I may have accidentally skipped a few pages somewhere. Who knows. I still haven't gotten used to ebooks, and I probably won't ever. Paperbacks forever!) I think even by the end, there were a few faceless names around. But for the main characters, I enjoyed experiencing the story through their eyes. (Although that could have possibly been because I was like "Phew, I actually know who you are...I'm pretty sure. You're the same one as from chapter two, right? You haven't switched or anything?")

The Point Of View changes were a bit distracting at times when it just slipped from Emeth's brain into Hamid and then back again. Whenever it happened I was drawn out of the story and it took a page or two to really get back in again. Too much brain switching makes me dizzy.

At the beginning I was slightly put out by the fact that when the character got a beating it was all impersonal and I wanted to actually see everything happen even though it would've been painful.  (haha, you all know I'm just saying that for how it looks. I wouldn't have minded at all.) Then a bit further through I was much happier. Lion mauling always adds a nice touch of tension and excitement. To be honest, it was probably my favourite scene. Oops. That may or may not be a good thing. I'm rather one for blood and gutsy stuff in books, I admit. Give me aall the suffering and feels.

So on that note, the ending was also really cool. [SPOILER] Almost dying of poison? COOL. With no possible antidote that has been invented. Super cool. Oh wait...is this character about to actually die this time? [END SPOILER] And the fact that the underlying Christian theme came out just a tad more at the end was perfect. It was one of those well done Christian themes where it just lay under the surface. There, but not at all preachy. It was really good. The ending was great.

So basically I recommend The Rise of Aredor to Christian Fantasy-with-no-magic-well-not-really lovers. It could've been better, but I managed to look past the faults and get into the story. If you start and the beginning seems to lag, don't worry, the second half is the best bit. 

An easy, creative and unique read.

And I'll have you know that my actual Goodreads review didn't include quite this much rambling. It was really weird and exciting to write: I received a free copy of this book from the author for my honest review. Because I've seen that written on other cool bookdragon's reviews and choked on jealousy but now it's ME writing it.

VERY COOL.

I still haven't worked out whether that excitement helped toward the 4-star rating or not. 

Hopefully not. It was probably the lion-mauling and dagger-stabbing and poison-dying (oops, spoilers) that did it.


So tell me, how do you feel about free books?

Oh, and before I leave, do you like reading Book Review posts? 
Should I do 'em more often? (feel free to give me a sarcastic eyebrow-raise and walk away shaking your head at another blogger slipping into the book-reviewing posts, only warn me before I fall too far)

Fair Winds!

|| Jane Maree ||

Swords, Sails + Scoundrels: Judging Justly

Hey-o everyone!

Eggh, these titles are getting gradually harder to think of. I mean, choosing something alliterating from the selection of J, K, L, O, Q, X, Y, Z? It's not the easiest.

But it makes for some funny (and very random) ideas suggested. 

Honestly, I'm just dreading when I'm left with X, Y and Z. *cringes*

Apparently people are in slight uncertainty whether they wanted me to say my one won thing so half of you voted for option one and the other half for option three. So Inmates in the Island's Inland ended up with equal votes for both. And so I wrote them both combined...sorta...good enough anyway.

Hope you enjoy. :)

“Change of plans. I don’t know about you,” Warin started to stand, “But I’m not sitting here letting that happen.”

I grabbed his arm, fear clenching my throat. “Something isn’t right here,” I said, a cold touch of dread tingling the back of my neck.

“What do you mean?” he asked, glancing down, eyes flashing.

“It’s...I don’t know. Something just isn’t right.” Goosebumps prickled up my arms.

“I agree,” Warin scowled, pulling his arm away and standing. “And that’s what’s not right.” He strode from the shadows toward the brawling pirates.

“Wait no!” I scrambled out after him, stumbling over a stick. “I thought we agreed not to just walk right in.”

Warin didn’t reply, his tense form radiating fury as he continued toward the group. Reaching the cheering pirates unnoticed, he shoved forward between them, stepping between them and Altin.

I ran over the sand, my feet slipping as it squeaked under my weight. I ducked between the pirates in time to see one man reel back, stumbling over into the sand from the force of Warin’s punch.

All the men froze, staring at Warin.

Then Rantu began to laugh, slowly at first then getting louder until his face flushed a bright pink.

Warin stood rigid, his sword sliding from its sheath, blade red in the firelight. 

“So you’ve come back for more, eh?” he asked, choking down the laughter. “Captain Wielder, protector of the innocent.” He snorted a laugh again. “I hope you see how ridiculous that is.”

“What about how ridiculous you look?” I asked before I could stop the words.

Every eye turned to me and I clamped my mouth shut, swallowing back any more stupid words.

Rantu glowered, no sign of the cruel humour left.

Why had I said anything? I slapped myself inwardly, wishing I could unsay the words.

No matter how true they were.

Warin lifted the point of his sword toward Rantu’s over-large nose. “If any man wishes to fight, he can come to me. Only a coward attacks girls.”

Rantu narrowed his eyes, stepping back from the threat of the sword up his nose. “Now now, Wielder. Do you really think you’re in a position for making threats?”

“I don’t know Rantu. You tell me. Are you?” Warin asked.

The pirate captain’s eyes flicked to someone behind me, and he nodded.

A thick arm wrapped around my waist pulling me off my feet. The cold edge of a dagger touched against my throat and I stifled a scream.

Warin spun, his sword up ready.

“I’d say...no,” Rantu said smoothly.

Warin’s knuckles went white on the hilt of his sword. “Did I mention the coward part?” he asked, voice low and furious.

Rantu laughed. “Not a coward, simply a man who takes the advantages offered him and uses them to his best purposes. The weak and innocent will always be your downfall, Wielder.”

My breath came tightly, the dagger against my throat seeming to block the air. Why was it always me?

The pirate held me off my feet, so only my toes brushed the sand, giving me no chance of struggling away.

Altin, half lying on the ground, squirmed forward toward me. Something metal in his hand flashed in the light of the fire.

If no one noticed he might make it.

Another moment.

He was going to make it.

Then a pirate’s boot kicked out, taking Altin in the stomach. He hunched into a ball, the knife flying from his grasp with a convulse of pain.

His dark blue eyes met mine, fear masking over the pain.

Fear for me.

Why would he care about me?

“Your pride will be your downfall.” Warin spat in the sand.

“Pride? No. I have no need of pride.” A cruel smile played across Rantu’s lips.

“Then I will be,” Warin snarled.

Rantu tsked at him, shaking his head slowly. “Did I not say that you weren’t in a position to be making threats?”

As a group, the pirates nearest Warin drew their long daggers, stepping forward around him.

I felt a sob of helplessness choke in my throat.

It couldn’t end like this.

I could barely breathe. Fear was blocking off my windpipe, suffocating me in its folds.

The pirates took another step closer, almost within reach of Warin’s long sword.

“Do you have any more idle threats up your sleeve?” Rantu asked, his dagger gleaming.

“None idle,” Warin said. “But if you care to glance over your shoulder, you might see that I am not alone.”

Rantu laughed. “We won’t fall for that trick, Wielder. Think of something original.”

“How about if I say that your ship is burning?” Warin asked calmly.

More than one pirate looked over their shoulder, including the man holding me.

There was a moment of silence as they tried to comprehend what they saw.

Then chaos broke loose.

The dagger at my throat slipped away and I kicked backward, my heel connecting with the pirate’s shin. He jerked back with a howl, and I dropped, falling sideways into the fire.

The glowing orange coals crunched under my hands sending sparks flaring up into the sky, I rolled to the side desperately. Agony blistered up my palms, and I gasped, hunching over and pressing the burnt skin into the cold sand. 

White lines jagged the edges of my vision.

Warin grabbed my arm, hauling me to my feet. “Run, before they notice.”

He ran across the sand toward the nearest trees, his arm under Altin’s as he half-dragged the battered Gypsy Boy at a run.

I staggered forward, almost falling headlong into the sand as a piece of driftwood rolled underfoot.

My pulse pounded through my ears, pain screaming from my hands. The sand slid uncertainly beneath me as I reeled across the beach toward the trees.

Shouts of pursuing pirates echoed from behind and I scrambled faster, blocking out everything but the trees.

I had to reach the trees.

Warin was almost at them, and I forced myself to run faster. My legs wavered beneath me and I stumbled, picking myself up and struggling on again.

Just a little longer.

Just to the trees.

I tripped on a tuft of grass, almost falling again, but Warin was there. He hooked his free arm below mine, pulling me onward.

“You can do it,” he said.

I just wanted to stop and collapse on the ground. Forget about the pirates, forget Marius. Forget this whole adventure.

I just wanted it all to stop.

“Louise, you’ve got to keep going. I can’t carry you both.” Warin’s voice was sharp.

“I can’t,” I choked on the words, a weary sob catching in my throat.

“Yes you can.” Warin pulled me on, his arm supporting me as I stumbled again.

The thudding squeak of footsteps behind us was drawing closer. They would catch up any moment.

Trees loomed up on either side of us and Warin dived forward, weaving around a thick moss-hung trunk.

With an echoing roar from above, three dark figures dropped just in front of us, swords raised and ready. I screamed, trying to jerk back.

“Come on,” Warin said, teeth gritted.

The figures charged past, running at the pirates with bellows of rage.

Our men.

The men who had been searching for Altin from the trees.

Before I could feel relief, Warin stumbled, falling against a tree, panting heavily. Altin slipped from his grasp, slumping limply to the ground.

Shouts of alarm and terror echo from the beach and then the three men where beside us again, one picking up Altin and slinging him over his shoulder.

“Dark figures from the trees,” Warin gasped, a faint smile on his lips. “This island must be haunted after all.”

“Are you alright capt’in?” one man grunted the question, sheathing his sword at his belt.

“Perfectly,” Warin nodded.

The blistering pain in my hands throbbed through my mind, stars dancing past my eyes. I swayed, almost collapsing.

Warin caught me, arms supporting me before I could fall. “Hold on, Louise,” he said, breath brushing against my ear. “We’ll get you back to the Rift.”

“I’ll find the others,” a voice on my left said, and running footsteps crunched away.

“Do you think you can run?” Warin asked.

I blinked to clear my mind, swallowing several times. “Y-yes, I think so.”

The shouting from the beach started drawing nearer again.

“Time to find out,” Warin said grimly, starting forward, his arm still around me.

My heart thumped in time with our footsteps, pounding through my mind, every beat sending a new flare of pain.

More stars flecked across my vision.

How long could I go on for before I collapsed?

Vines caught at my hair, tugging at the impossible tangles, grasping at the light linen of my shirt. It was almost as if they wanted to stop me.

I wouldn’t let them.

I couldn’t.

Warin’s breath was panting beside me, though I could barely see his outline in the dark. More footsteps joined us as the rest of the pirates came from their places, scrambling over logs and through undergrowth, praying that no one stepped on a snake.

If anyone was left behind there was no way of telling until the morning.

The darkness was impossible to penetrate.

Only the sounds of running. Of crashing through the bushes and ferns, of falling over logs, stumbling into another crewman in the dark.

What if I had gone blind?

Panic started tightening my throat, making it hard to breathe. My legs crumpled beneath me and Warin scooped me up, barely hesitating as he started to carry me.

Slowly the light seemed to be getting brighter again. The trees were thinning, undergrowth growing sparser.

Warin stumbled to one knee, setting me down, his chest heaving with exertion.

I stood, swaying as the blistering pain throbbed across my palms. 

Where were we?

“Warin?” I turned back to his gasping figure.

“Don’t worry. Keep going as best you can. I’ll be fine.” He waved a hand, the action just visible in the star light.

I stumbled forward a few steps, hearing the grunt breath of the crew as they staggered after me.

Keep going.

We had to get to the Rift.

I took another step and the ground disappeared from under my foot, sucked away by some hidden force.

҉

1. “The swamp!” a pirate to my left yelled, his feet disappearing under him as the ground sunk away.

2. I fell headlong, slithering and rolling down an unseen slope in the darkness.

3. Something cold as ice wrapped around my legs, dragging me down. Into Darkness.

҉

And there we go. If the title is totally unrelated to anything...sorry. I couldn't think up anything better. :)

I'm excited to see how you guys liked today's part.

Fair Winds!

Jane Maree

40 Hour Famine - Recap

I LIVED!!!

So. Now that we've gotten past that nice intro that makes everyone relieved because they wanted to hear the ending of my story, I can move onto the important facts.

I LIVED, AND I'M STILL ALIVE.

Would you believe it? Shocking, right?

I thought that I could share with all what it was like to not-eat for 40 hours. Several of these things are stuff I wrote while it was happening, other stuff is what I remembered and attempting to guess what time it was when it happened.


Friday 6:30 - we finished dinner. This is it. Ate extra lots so it would take longer before I was hungry again. Officially 'started.'

Fri 6:40- licked the burrito meat spoon (after considering the consequences: decided it was worth it anyway) and had to delay the official beginning back a couple of minutes.

Fri 8-9:30 - watched "Anastasia" (the bat thingy was HILARIOUS) then went to bed.

Saturday 7:00 - woke up feeling hungry. Well...that didn't take long. Lay around in bed for a while because...there wasn't much inspiration for getting up.

Sat 7:30 - sat at the breakfast bench and watched my little 2 year old sister complaining that she 'didn't like' her breakfast. At least she was allowed to eat it. Pretended that drinking a glassful of water was satisfying enough for breakfast.

Sat 8-9:30 - wrote some Monsieur Scattlocke for much shorter time than normal because the lack of breakfast was making me uninspired.

Sat 10:00 - my stomach rumbled. Woe is me. Disappeared into my bedroom and had a stomach grumbling party with Alice. It's amazing how weird it felt; when you're stomach growls, you naturally want to go eat something but...nope. I attempted to console myself with the fact that there was only a bit over 24 hours left. I discovered that 24 hours left is not a very consoling statement.

Sat 10:30-12:45 - (that time is just a rough guess) distracted myself rather successfully with reading my friend and cabin mate Savannah Perran's (more commonly known to some as Savvy) novella Killing Snow. It was cool. I mean, beta reading for friends is always cool, but it's extra cool when the book's also cool. Like, Snow White retelling with Snow as the villain? COOL. Assassins and mass murderers? DOUBLE COOL. Bards? Airships? Futuristic? I AM TOTALLY IN THIS FOR LIFE. So yeah, it was pretty cool.

Sat 1:00 - Alice dared to bring out the things I had been dreading: barley sugars. The only thing you're allowed to eat (presumably so the sugar gives you energy and stuff), and basically everyone you ask tell you they are horrible (and they're fluro orange *shudders*). I ate one, it wasn't as bad as I had expected. We decided that since we went this long without eating anything maybe we should have two each.

Sat 1:30 - may or may not have gone hyper from the sugar overload...

Sat 2-4:00 - wrote out my beta reader comments for Killing Snow. Didn't have enough time to send them off and had to start getting ready for a friend's 18th bonfire birthday party.

Sat 4:30 - Traveled the half an hour to the party. In the car, it was very strange. I sat still almost the entire time. I NEVER sit still. Normally: I sit, my legs are jiggling, fingers tapping. Then: NOTHING. I honestly just couldn't be bothered to move at all. It was very weird. I was sitting there just staring at myself because it almost felt like my body wasn't mine, At least I was still breathing and still alive. Always a plus.

Sat 5-8:30 - at bonfire party, trying to ignore my dear sister Clare's taunting as she eats chips really loud next to my ear, or flaunts past with a sausage and bread. Luckily Sarah (known to some as Ninja) was a nicer friend and actually half-starved with me just to be nice. I successfully made Zach (it was his party) wary most of the night because of my threatening hints that I might have a glitter bomb birthday present for him. Unfortunately I just couldn't have been bothered to do anything so it was nothing all along. He was still wary though, so it was definitely worth it. Sat talking stories with Sarah while Clare grinned at me as she ate pavlova. NOT FAIR. Pav is the best. (Also, random question for my American followers, do you know what pavlova is? (And I just discovered like, three seconds ago, that pavlova isn't actually an Aussie/NZ thing...uh, okay. Still, I want know if you eat it)) At least there was no pizza (although it had been threatened).

Sat 8:30-9:30 - got home very exhausted and tired. The strange thing was that it wasn't the normal tired. Not the 'my eyes are tired of seeing, my body has no more strength to do anything' but it was a 'I'M HUNGRYYY AND I COULDN'T BE BOTHERED TO MAKE MYSELF DO ANYTHING EXCEPT SLEEP' (or eat, but I wasn't about to just give up). Also, my brain was like a slug. Or there's the way I put it at the time...which was slightly...creative? This is something I wrote at nine to my cousin:

“My brain is mush. It don’t think proper. Won’t. Wow. I’m completely mad. And tired. 
Soup. That’s what my brain is. My brain is soup. 
Hmm...I like soup.
Soup is nice.
Even Broccoli soup, although I’ve never had any. 
Right now, broccoli soup would be just wonderful.
Or pumpkin.
Pumpkin soup is good.
My brain is also a bit like roast pumpkin.
It looks hard on the outside but inside = MUSHY”

Aaand I might've skipped out several of the more crazy lines...You get the picture though.

Sat 9:30-Sunday 7:00 - Slept. Or tried to at least. Getting to sleep was easy, but the rest of the night?...not so much. I woke up, felt hungry, rolled over, went back to sleep. An hour later: woke up, felt hungry, rolled over, went back to sleep. Eventually it was morning though and I could wake up properly and just feel hungry.

Sun 7:30-9:00 - Had a purposefully long shower to give everyone else time to eat breakfast while I was occupied, lay on the bedroom floor reading the bible. Alice and I both agreed wholeheartedly that we didn't need to eat any barley sugars. I knew they'd probably give me more energy and be good for me but I honestly could stand the thought of eating one. I was hungry for something savoury. At normal times, sweet isn't my thing, but when I'm hungry, definitely not. So we kept lying on the floor instead.
Clare came in and decided Alice and I looked completely dead just lying there. I disagreed. I felt uninspired to move, yeah, but dead? *checks breathing* Nope, I'm all good. 

After a while I decided to move and started playing guitar. I played around a bit and...the weirdest thing, when I stopped because it was time to go to church I had a bunch of energy. Nowhere near what I normal have, but it was there. For no reason. It was cool.

Sun 9:30-10:40 - church. It was one of those very rare weeks when our family wasn't actually on anything so we could just come. It was hungry, and surprisingly hard to sing while your stomach is in a perpetual state of almost-grumbling. 

Sun 10:45 - DONE! The first thing we ate was a cubic centimeter of bread for communion. I don't think it's ever tasted that good before. When the service was done we started eating through a packet of Saos (for those who don't know what these are *clears throat* *finds definition on google* Sao biscuits are a savoury cracker biscuit that was launched in Australia in 1906 blah blah blah, you get it now. They're pretty nice. Eating them with Vegemite is quite tasty.) and I'm pretty sure we only ate half the packet between us...

Sun 11:15 - Alice and I went shopping to buy a hot roast chicken or two for a celebratory lunch (YUM).

Sun 12-1:00 - got home, started making lunch. Ate lunch (YUMMY YUM). Basically: WE LIVED!


It was a really cool experience, and I can think of tons of reasons to do it. It made me actually think about all those other people who don't have the blessing of as much food as they want. It raised money toward supporting them (not my insane 5,000 goal that I honestly wasn't expecting to meet anyway. but enough to bless many lives). I realised how blessed I am, with all the things God has given me.

And naturally I had to bring this up: I'll now be able to write more accurately what it's like to actually be hungry. Which is cool.

So the big question, am I doing it again next time?

Hopefully.

My mum used to do it every year for quite a while, and I've always thought it was a kind of interesting idea. So I want to do it again, help out those people who are hungry and don't have the privileges of a hot chicken after 40 hours. It's not much, but it's something (uh, the helping out, not the hot chicken. THAT was something).

What about you? Do you want to give it a shot one year?

Now I can go back to jittering around, eating pizza (virtual and real) and hopefully sparing a thought for those who don't have such things.

This post was actually surprisingly longer than I expected. Hopefully it didn't drag on too much. :)

So, do you know what pavlova is?

(If so, have you eaten any?)

Jane Maree