Hints of the Future, Imprisoned in Stone #mfrwhooks

Writers are often asked what they were thinking off when a scene written. To tell a secret, sometimes we don't know. When the Year's End dance of Imprisoned in Stone was being written, the muse and the characters controlled the pen.  I was totally surprised when the sprites appeared and danced with Rascal and Kai, magical equines called the seisag.

Winged flecks of gold appeared, first one then another, until a dazzling curtain of light soared over the meadow. “The sprites,” Tralin whispered. “It has been many years since they appeared.”

The thunder of hooves shattered the silence of the meadow. In a flash of white, Rascal galloped out into the center of the sprites. Kai moved like a dark shadow at the stallion’s side. Instead of a solid glowing sphere, the sprites broke apart into four balls that each mirrored the full moon. Clusters of the golden creatures settled on Rascal and Kai, limning them with a ghostly radiance. The remainder formed ethereal versions of the horse and seisag. Real and sprite-created horses cavorted around the meadow to an ancient tune that floated through the night.

However, that is not the end of the confession. The other day I was scanning the story, looking for posts to include in the MFRWAuthor Book Hooks.  Whether it was the passage of years since the book's release or viewing it with a different eye, but I uncovered a foreshadowing I had been unaware of when writing the book.

Neither man, seisag, or horse moved until a solitary moonbeam penetrated the darkness to pin Tralin in a pool of white.

Now that I've revealed a spoiler as to Tralin's fate, I hope you're intrigued enough to check out Imprisoned in Stone. Available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo and elsewhere. Excerpts, a free read of the first chapter, and buy links available here.

~till next time, Helen

Hooked on Windmaster Golem, Bookqw Dark #mfrwhooks

 Magic animated the golem. Can someone without powers stop them?
 

A snippit from Windmaster Golem using the Book Quote Word, DARK. To set the stage, Relliq is not happy with his assignment as apprentice to a village healer. While she is out on a mission of mercy, he experiments with magic.  The result is the first encounter between competitors for Kiansel's affection.

Relliq threw more magic into the spell. A man appeared. Tall and wide-shouldered, he strode with confidence along at steep trail. Gray ropes snatched at his legs. The air around the figure thickened and within a heartbeat became an impenetrable haze.

Now the liquid in the bowl once again showed its true nature. As he had just moments before, Relliq searched his memory for the means to use and control the spell. A pairing came to mind. “Night be dark, light be gone, mist turn into a living fog,” he hissed.

What had been a haze thickened and pulsed in a rhythm that mirrored a heartbeat.

Relliq’s lips parted. He leaned closer to the bowl. The shadowed man fell, rose to his feet, shambled a few paces, fell again, then on hands and feet crawled through the swirling mass. Movement ceased when the figure placed his back against a sheer rock face.

The liquid in the bowl shimmered, then exploded. Sparks flew around the room, landing on the table, the floor, and in Relliq’s hair. Slaps put out the embers that burned his skin and clothes. Remnants of the shattered spell danced along the bowl’s rim as glowing sprites. After a frenetic dance, they merged and flared into a solid flame. A shriek at the pain in his hands and Relliq threw the bowl against the wall. Fire flowed down the wall where the blood droplets touched the stone.

His hastily whispered dispersion spell touched the flames which flickered into nothingness to cast the room into darkness. A single moonbeam pierced the gloom and moved across the room to pin the doorway in a spectral glow.

~ * ~

And don't miss the holiday special. The entire Windmaster Novels series is only $1.50 at Smashwords.


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Hooked on Golem. Vision in the Bowl, #MFRWhooks

 

 

Magic animated the golem. Can someone without powers stop them?
 

A snippit from Windmaster Golem. To set the stage, the last snippit held part of Kiasel's first hint of her stalker. Now we see who was on the other end of the ethereal cord.

Excerpt 

 

“Tell me your name,” Relliq cooed. “I must know your name.”

In response, a sense of determination, then a clear rejection of the command came through the silver cord connecting him to the woman in the water. The image shifted. Even at the distance, Relliq could feel her gathering magic into a protective cloak.

Despite his demand for her to stay, the water returned to its natural state. Not even a ripple noted the passing of the ethereal connection.

“No,” he yelled. “I will have you.” His mind searched through the spells and incantations he knew. A quick search of the room and he realized he didn’t have the necessary materials for a spell. The image of the place of torment, the healer’s workroom, filled his mind. Containers of herbs lined the shelves and withies hung from pegs. “Ysbail’s shelves are full. She won’t miss a few things.

His feet took control and a heartbeat later he raced through the empty streets to the healer’s office. He barely slowed as he barrelled over the threshold and didn’t slow until he reached the back room. Rummaging through the wooden box in which she kept small items needed for the casting of magic, he palmed a spool of thread. A twist removed the cap from a finger-length wooden tube and he slid a needle out. “I just need one more thing.” A moment to center his thoughts and he cast his senses outward until he slipped into the Cyrcle of One. His hand hovered over the rolls of tubes containing maps of the known world.

“Powers that be, work through my hand, Show me the place so I can command.”

Where before the shaft of light coming through the window lit a small dot on the floor, now the beam slid across the stones and up the bookcase. It lingered at one spot until a tube glowed.

~ * ~

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Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, Maerva Threatened #mfrwhooks

 

 
A teaser of magic of a darker kind from Imprisoned in Stone. For the crime of healing without payment, the Brethren imprisoned Dylan’s soul in stone. Every full moon, they awakened him and renewed the bonds. When the blood dried on the stone, his awareness faded, but during those few brief moments, he had one thought--revenge. 

For this weeks teaser, more of the start of Dylan's revenge. But the question remains. At what cost will it be achieved?

Excerpt:

The man swept the blade aside, then moved in with a series of thrusts. His longer reach, combined with his partner’s heavier weight, forced Gareth back a step, then two, then three. The sound of other battles sent his pulse racing. Maerva! 

“We will save her,” Dylan vowed. “They may have dismissed your powers. They won’t mine!”  

Dylan’s magic, stronger than anything Gareth had ever experienced, stronger even than Tralin’s, gathered to form a solid shield. Sparks limned sword and dagger, then merged into a solid flame that hid the metal. 

 A fiery spear soared to the closest attacker. The glow struck the monk in the middle of his chest—and adhered. Inch by inch, the fire spread until the robe burst into flames. His scream cut off in mid-breath. Gareth threw a final flare which turned the man into a pile of ash which disappeared in the light breeze.

The second monk stared at his missing comrade. “Enough,” he yelled. With a yank he pulled the robe over his head and swung the heavy fabric in ever increasing circles. He released his grip, sending a black-winged creature fluttering at Gareth’s head.

A flick of Gareth’s dagger sent a burning ribbon toward the entral which vanished in a puff of smoke. “You’re right,” Gareth rasped. “It was enough.” Maerva’s yell spun him. Her opponent had pinned her against a tree. The monk’s dagger raised for a killing blow.
 

*** End of Excerpt ***

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Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, Revenge Approaches #mfrwauthor #mfrwhooks

 
A teaser of magic of a darker kind from Imprisoned in Stone. For the crime of healing without payment, the Brethren imprisoned Dylan’s soul in stone. Every full moon, they awakened him and renewed the bonds. When the blood dried on the stone, his awareness faded, but during those few brief moments, he had one thought--revenge. 

For this weeks teaser, the start of Dylan's revenge. But the question arises. At what cost will it be achieved?

Excerpt:

Whether the heat came from his lifeforce or magic, the stone beneath Gareth's hand warmed. The pain vanished, replaced by exultation. 

Thoughts in two voices rang in his head. One was his own. The other held anger nurtured by ages of imprisonment. “I am free,” Dylan yelled. “Revenge will be mine!”

Strength from an unknown source surged through Gareth’s body. He rolled to his knees, fumbled at his boot and withdrew a dagger. Fighting back a groan, he reached out with a blood-stained hand and pulled himself upright. He pushed off the rock and stood, his weapons at the ready. He wavered.

“Help me, Dylan,” Gareth begged.

“What I have is yours,” Dylan answered.

Power, even greater than what Gareth imagined possible, filled his frame. The encroaching darkness withdrew. Now steady on his feet, he assumed a defensive stance. “Colwynn, take care of Maerva. Don’t worry about me.” A weapon in each hand, he tested their weight. “I can pull my own freight.”

“So you think,” Nemor snarled. 

Gareth judged the two monks in front of him and the one menacing Maerva. Hard eyes and the way they held steady a pair of short swords indicated none of the three were strangers to weapons or fighting. In flashing images he reviewed Maerva’s skill with the blade. She had learned a lot during their lessons and sparring sessions. Still the reality was inescapable. She was no match for the man she faced.

“Then,” Dylan ordered, “we take them all.” His thought came so clear into Gareth’s mind it seemed it was his own. No one will harm Maerva.

Gareth felt the other’s bloodlust. Nemor will die.

Energy which could only have come from the imprisoned mage flooded Gareth. Muscles exhausted from hard riding now felt fully rested. Although he knew he would pay later, he accepted the gift. His determination to save Maerva matched Dylan’s.

Unsure how long their blended strength would last, Gareth knew he could not afford to wait. He charged the taller of the monks.
 

*** End of Excerpt ***

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Hooked on Windmaster Legacy, Handfasting's Approach #MFRWhooks

An excerpt from the sword and sorcery romantic fantasy, Windmaster Legacy. A proposal had been made and accepted. Now the date for the handfasting approaches.

Excerpt:

It should have been the happiest time of her life. Yet Ellspeth, former captain of Sea Falcon, could not pin down the source of her uneasiness. Nothing beyond the normal sounds of sea birds, shouted orders, and hammering reached her ears. A glance out the office window assured her there were no problems with the new ship. Windmaster bobbed gently in the confines of the construction pit. Destined to be a floating school for mages, the ship’s construction had been smooth with only minor problems. Three days earlier, during the canal diversion that flooded the dry dock and floated the vessel off its supports, no water penetrated the hull.

Based on Mirrim’s assurances, preparations for the handfasting ceremony in a few days between Ellspeth and Dal remained under control—even if Ellspeth still could hear her mother’s slightly acidic comment, “as long as your groom is here.” Dal had left more than three sevenday ago to bring his mother from their clanhold in the Mtwan Mountains to Stratven.

~ ~ ~

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Hooked on Windmaster Legend, Lantern Rising, #MFRWAuthor

A forbidden love. An impossible quest. The accusation of witchcraft. Can love survive?

A snippit from Windmaster Legend

To set the stage, in the spirit of reflection and giving thanks, a scene from the lantern rising festival. Pelra will be helping crew one of the vessels releasing the collected lanterns and using the time to help settle her own feelings for the two men in her life. Bolte is a young ensign who is also working the event and his parents are Analese and Lendar, who came to see him off.

To distract herself from the emotions rising at Iol’s closeness, Pelra read the handwritten notes on the sky lanterns closest to her. Some were thanks for a profitable year, while others were prayers for the one to come. Many were poignant remembrances of loved ones who had passed beyond the veil. The dream listed on one lantern clutched at her heart.

Air and sky together forever,
May our two lives be as joined.
With nothing between but a gentle zephyr.
Air and sky, bless our journey.

Even more than the words, the signatures, one small and neat, the other large and scrawling, had Pelra adding her own prayer that the wishes being sent skyward be granted. The lantern bore the names Analese and Lendar. She looked at Bolte to see if the youth had noticed his parent’s contribution to the festival. However, he was concentrating on arranging things to get all the lanterns in the air as quickly as possible and appeared oblivious to the dreams and hopes he would soon be sending into the air.

Bolte will be the one to launch Analese and Lendar’s lantern, Pelra vowed. And added her own wish for it to rise high. For legend said that wishes on a lantern that caught fire before reaching the clouds would never be fulfilled.

~ * ~

You'll have to read Windmaster Legend to see the release of Analese and Lendar's lantern. And whether or not Pelra's own wishes come true. Ebook on sale at Amazon for the holidays.

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Gremlins stole the turkey and the link for Affinities (J. L. Walters. https://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com/2019/11/wednesday-confrontations-affinities.html

Hooked on Windmaster Legacy, at the door, #mfrwhook #mfrwauthor

Chose between magic, revenge... or the life of a loved one.

In honor of the season of weddings, a smippit from Windmaster Legacy. To set the stage,vows have been exchanged, and a celebration held. Now its time for the bride and groom to escape.

EXCERPT:

Ellspeth's skin tingled as much from the cloaking spell Dal threw over them as the touch of his hand. By magesight, Ellspeth ran hand-in-hand with him down the darkened corridors. She didn’t even attempt to keep track of the left and right turns, or how many stairwells they climbed. She knew where he was leading her—to his room, to his bed.

Dal stopped at a pair of intricately-carved wooden doors. A rope of green ferns, the Mtwan mountain people’s symbol for happiness in marriage, hung over the door. “Hope you approve,” he murmured. “I told you I could find a better place than a cave in a blizzard. And I promised you a warmer room than Fearguis offered us in Dardlen.”

A kick opened the left-hand door and before Ellspeth could squeal, he had swept her up into his arms. Two steps took them over the threshold and to a night she been awaiting and yet dreading for many sevenday. She held her breath as he pushed the door closed with his foot. Their privacy assured, he walked toward the bed. As if he sensed her uncertainty, Dal stopped in the middle of the room and set her on her feet.

In the soft candlelight his eyes sparkled with an inner fire.

~ * ~

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Windmaster, At Day's End, #mfrwauthor

Since summer is approaching, I thought I'd share a scene from Windmaster of my favorite way to cool-off after a hard days work. And the reason the cover for Windmaster Legacy is shown when the excerpt is from Windmaster? The hunk on the cover is the one in the mill pond.

---------------------------------------------------



An old wagon with a plume of dust in its wake, rattled up the road to the mill. Olier moved to the doorway while Dal stood in the shadow alongside the door. His grip tightened on Ellspeth’s shoulder.

“It’s old man Steryl,” Olier hissed. “He snarls a lot but has no love for the Oracle. Dal, can you mill his grain? If I leave now, we’ll lose the entire batch of syrup. Just to be safe, Ellspeth stay out of sight. I can explain Dal’s presence, but not yours.”

Dal gave Ellspeth’s shoulder a quick squeeze and stepped out to Olier’s side. The men raised a hand in greeting to the wagon driver. Before the newcomer could say a word, Olier pointed to the mill wheel. “You know where to take it, Steryl. The marka’s at a critical stage. Darmen here will grind it for you.”

The wagon driver grumbled in response.

Dal gave a pointed stare at the doorway behind Olier. But, there was no sign of Ellspeth. Good, Ellspeth is doing what she’s told. Although he mused, I wonder how long that will continue. An inadvertent sigh of relief escaped him. The wagon creaked as he swung up beside the driver.

Steryl glared at the man beside him. The whip crack was accompanied by more mumbled comments.

Dal hid a smile. He knew how to handle this one. And with a little luck, he’d get the latest news.

One big heave and the bag of meal thumped onto the wagon bed. Dal’s hearty, “All done,” was answered by Steryl’s grumble. Glad to see the grouchy old man leave, Dal snatched a cloth from atop the grain chute. He wiped his face to see the rough material turn brown with dust and sweat. The millstream looked so inviting he dropped the makeshift towel and stripped off his shirt and breeches. Three steps took him into the cool water. Several quick splashes cooled his sweat-drenched skin and ran in rivulets down the muscles of his chest.

~ * ~

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/

Hooked on Windmaster Legend, Rebuffed, #mfrwhook

A forbidden love. An impossible quest.
The accusation of witchcraft. Can love survive?

As a final excerpt as part of the celebration of the release of Windmaster Legend, more of the initial meeting between  Sub-Commander Pelra and Eirik, the future ruler of Clan Daimh.

To set the stage, in the previous excerpt, Pelra met Eirik, and she acknowledges the attraction... until he goes too far.

The arrival of two saddled horses followed by four more bearing their packages tied to their pack saddles brought Eirik, Conall, and Pelra to their feet. “It looks like your clan wants us underway as much as I want to get there,” Eirik said to Pelra. Bowing, he held open the second coat. “M’lady, if I may assist you.” He tilted his head at the darkening sky. “I fear the clouds are not waiting. We’ll be deluged within two candlemarks.”

Pelra gave a formal curtsy. “Thank you, kind sir.” Swift movements shrugged the coat onto her shoulders, and she tied the belt around her waist.

“May I assist you to the saddle, m’lady?” Eirik bent down, his fingers interlaced to form a cup.

Where before his attention attracted her, Pelra decided his solicitousness needed to be reined in. “I can mount quite well myself. If we need to make time, I suggest you get into your own saddle.”

Eirik accepted the rebuff with a smile and a wink.

~ * ~

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Hooked on Windmaster Legend, Eye #bookqw #mfrwhook

A forbidden love. An impossible quest.
The accusation of witchcraft. Can love survive?

From Windmaster Legend. Meeting a Suitor? A snippit using the book quote word, "Eye."

Dark hair and piercing green eyes were the first things Pelra noticed. Eirik sat comfortably in the saddle, a man at ease on horseback and the trail. Swinging a leg over, he dropped to the ground. Swift movements untied a bundle he tossed over his shoulder. “As long as it’s ready, a plate sounds good. It’s been a cold ride.”

The wagonmaster performed quick introductions. Eirik’s handshake was warm. To Pelra’s surprise he shifted from the trader greeting to a formal kiss worthy of the king’s court. Heat spread from her hand to her neck. She hoped that neither the wagonmaster nor Conall noticed.

“Eirik, while you eat, I’ll have the supplies for Clan Daimh, and Pelra’s and Conall’s personal belongings, packed on the spare horses.” He looked at Conall. “Don’t worry, Bard, Lady Pelra, I’ll make sure your instruments are secured.” A wave and several drivers took over the animals to carry the supplies and headed towards the end of the train.

Pelra resisted the urge to join them. She had protected the instruments through too much to entrust them to others. Yet duty—and Eirik’s green eyes—held her in place.

~ * ~

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Hooked on Windmaster Legend, Luck, #MFRWauthor #MFRWHook

A forbidden love. An impossible quest. The accusation of witchcraft.
Can love survive?

In honor of St. Patrick's Day, the snippit uses the bookqw "Luck." From Windmaster Legend

“G’day sir, you must be from the House of Pirri. Your order is almost ready. It won’t be but a candlemark or two more. You’re welcome to wait in my office. Or the Hoof and Horn.” A gesture pointed to where a line of men stood in front of a door three buildings down. The top half of the door was open, a board placed across the bottom half formed a serving table. “This time of day they’ll be frying fish and potatoes in the shed in the back. You can also buy a mug of ale. If you’re LUCKY enough, you can get one chilled in the well.”

~ * ~

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The gremlins ate one of the links: try https://hywelalyn.blogspot.com/2019/03/try-that-again-and-ill-blow-your-head.html

Hooked on Windmaster Legend, No is Not Acceptable #mfrwauthor #mfrwhook

A forbidden love. An impossible quest. The accusation of witchcraft. Can love survive?

 

The scene takes place the night of the captain's conclave just after Pelra refuses Leod's advances. This is what happens after her suggestion that he return to the party because “There should be someone there suitable for you.”
 
Excerpt:

His slap rocked Pelra’s head back against the hedge. A hiss escaped her lips. Leod’s hard grip on her arm numbed her fingers, and the cases clattered to the ground. Instinctively, she shifted her feet to avoid stepping on the cases and damaging the precious instruments inside.

Leod’s yank hauled her to her feet. “We will dance, my lady. If not on your feet, then on your back.”

Shock and fear fought for control of Pelra’s legs. One emotion wanted to run, and the other held her in place. Anger that she would be attacked rose above the other emotions. I am at a party in the king’s garden. Even worse, her attacker was a member of her own trading house, in essence, kin. That slight reminder of who she was broke Pelra’s paralysis. A sharp twist of her wrist and she was free of Leod’s grasp. Two steps not only gave her room to maneuver, it drew her attacker away from the instruments.

Strategic options whirled in her mind. A glance revealed no weapons at hand. It’s up to me. As commander of a caravan, she’d been in plenty of fights. Just not, she admitted, hampered by a long gown. With one hand she gathered the skirt and hiked it a mere finger-length, so the hem rose to her ankle. The other hand reached as if to smooth an errant curl.

Leod’s eyes widened. His lips parted.

Pelra’s fingers tightened around the longest of the pins that held her hair in a crown around her head. That one will get a surprise. I am no tavern girl selling myself for a few coins. Instructions from the guild’s weaponsmasters solidified a strategy in her mind. Let him come to you—then strike.

~ * ~

You'll have to read the book to see the ultimate outcome. But a hint is at Performing Isn't Rewarded. 

~till next time, Helen

Windmaster Legend is now RELEASED. 

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Hooked on Windmaster Legend, Shall We Dance? #mfrwauthor #mfrwhook

A forbidden love. An impossible quest. The accusation of witchcraft. Can love survive?

 

Today I'd like you to meet the man I hope you'll love to hate, Leod of the House of Pirri. Since he is from the same trading guild as Pelra, he is supposed to live by the same code of honor, and treat her as kin. However, Leod makes his own rules. And his relatives on his house's ruling council of the House provide him with the power to do so.

The scene takes place the night of the captain's conclave. Leod senses something happening in the maze and heads in to see what secrets he might find--secrets that could be used to gain more power. He sees an unknown woman sitting by herself and presents a proposal and receives Lady Pelra's response.

Excerpt:

My lady, I am Leod, a seated member of the ruling council of the House of Pirri.” He rose from his best court bow. “At your service.”

Surprise stopped his hand in mid-gesture of offering her the glass of wine. The “come hither” smile that normally resulted from his introduction was missing. Instead, there was just silence and a raised eyebrow. He’d heard the bards could strip a man to the bone with a glance or single word. But he’d never believed it. Until now.

“The best wine in Stratven for the most beautiful woman.”

Assurance filled him. That line had never failed to win over a woman. This one might be a bard, but she was still a woman. However, instead of an encouraging smile, her response was a chilled, “No, thank you.”

He shifted to the approach that had bedded him many a fair maiden. “Then may I have the honor of this dance? A man only has the opportunity once in his life to have such a beautiful companion, let alone one bard-trained.”

The slight tightening of her lips gave Leod little insight into what he had said wrong. Still, he held the smile that had won over so many women.

His target still didn’t submit. Instead, she gave a slight shake of her head. “I appreciate the compliment. However, I am quite content where I am. Maybe you should return to the dance.” Her head-to-toe scan of him added to the fire building under Leod’s skin. “There should be someone there suitable for you.”

~ * ~

~till next time, Helen


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Hooked on Windmaster Legend, Performing Isn't Rewarded, #mfrwauthor #mfrwhook

A forbidden love. An impossible quest. The accusation of witchcraft. Can love survive?

 

Last week you were introduced to Lady Pelra. There is a saying no good deed goes unpunished. Iol had no idea that an order from his superior would have an unexpected result. In response to readers requests, the aftermath of Iol's house volunteering him to assist the performers of the evening's finale. Is it accolades? A promotion? Fate decreed banishment for all. The scene takes place just after a captain mast is called and Pelra answers charges of selling herself and treason to her house. The accuser is rebuked and sent to his quarters aboard ship.

Excerpt:

Commander Pelra, I offer the apologies of my house, and mine personally,” Kursko said. “Leod will not bother you anymore. I’m sorry, but you can’t stay in Stratven. He does have friends in town, and I and the rest of the council value you too much to risk you. Fortunately, we have the perfect solution. Clan Daimh petitioned the council for someone with skill in contracts to work with them during the cold season at their winterhold; then in the spring travel with them as they trade and help with any contract questions. You have been given the assignment.” He offered a wry smile. “This assignment is not punishment and should not be considered such. You will be doing your house a favor.”

And continuing the excerpt, once the proceedings were over.

Conall bowed to acknowledge the thanks. “I also have news. The head of the guildhall here in Stratven called me to her office this morning. I, too, am being reassigned for the winter.” His smile warmed Pelra even as she wondered about the mysteriousness of his words. “It appears, Lady Pelra, we will be traveling together. I am taking new music to Clan Daimh. And since winter closes the passes, I will be staying until spring to help teach the little ones and to record the clan’s ancient tales for the Bard Guild archives.”

Pleasure at the change to what she had expected would be a lonely winter chased away the last of the chill left by the captain’s mast.

Iol doesn't escape unscathed either as his superior, the man who actually broke up Leod's attack on Pelra renders one final judgement.

“It seems there are apologies going all around today. Iol, our council feels, especially after today’s court, that the risk of retribution from Leod is high. To keep you away from him until our two houses work things out, you are being sent to Botunn Loghes to run the Cszabo post there. The previous postmaster is ill and returning to his family in the Southern Continent.” Sadness flickered across the man’s face then disappeared. “Unfortunately, no gold comes with this command, but you will have a ship. I don’t know what shape Loch Bird is in, except that she is in the water. When you report to me tomorrow, I’ll give you the authorization you’ll need in case repairs are needed.”

Conall clapped Iol on the back. “It looks like we will all be traveling together for a while.”

Pelra wondered at the look on Iol’s face. But I have time on the trail to figure it out.

~ * ~

Bonded by friendship and their music, some paths diverge while others entwine. You'll have to read Windmaster Legend to see what the future holds and which of the suitors, if any, win Pelra's heart. 


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~till next time, Helen