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littlemanpoet · 01-28-2006, 11:33 AM

"What can you tell us?" the man called Stamo asked.

Wenda's hands shook; the fire warmed her and the cup of broth took the chill out of her hands, but they could not take the cold terror out of her heart. She did not wish to think of It, for the very recalling gave It place in her mind, and sucked at the marrow of her soul. She shivered.

"I .... went .... to the village .... to the north ..." She spoke in halts and gasps, her teeth chattering. "It was daylight .... but .... quiet as death." Wenda took a sip of the hot broth. "Bodies .... lay .... in the snow .... I turned one over." Wenda stopped and gazed into the fire, transfixed except for the shivering. "His eyes .... his face .... caught .... in a frozen look .... of naked terror!" Wenda sipped from the cup of broth and swallowed convulsively. "They were all the same!"

"Peace, Wenda!" said Mara, her hand warm on her shoulder. "Peace! Speak no more of it."

Wenda shook her head violently, and her shivering stilled from the warmth of the fire; but also she willed herself to be calm enough to tell her tale aright.

"Quiet as death it had seemed, but the silence became menacing of a sudden. I looked from the face of a dead child caught in its fear. There was a man; he had come out of the hut closest to the village's inn; the chief's hut. His face was dead, his eyes black and empty; he walked toward me but his footfall made no sound. I felt I was in a nightmare. My deers saw him and fled south, taking the sledge with them. Wiser were they than I.

"'Who are you?' I cried, I know not how I found voice to speak to It. It did not answer but reached a hand out to me. At that moment, somehow I saw as an Elf sees, I guess, and before me the world changed, and the man was but a shell; the wraith in the man was cold and deadly, and sought me. I fell into a panic, for I knew if It caught me my soul would not be my own. In my panic my shifting came upon me and I fled with the fleetness of a reindeer. Had I not the gift, I would be dead this moment, and a shell for this wraith.

"It comes this way."

01-28-2006, 11:33 AM	#71
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	"What can you tell us?" the man called Stamo asked. Wenda's hands shook; the fire warmed her and the cup of broth took the chill out of her hands, but they could not take the cold terror out of her heart. She did not wish to think of It, for the very recalling gave It place in her mind, and sucked at the marrow of her soul. She shivered. "I .... went .... to the village .... to the north ..." She spoke in halts and gasps, her teeth chattering. "It was daylight .... but .... quiet as death." Wenda took a sip of the hot broth. "Bodies .... lay .... in the snow .... I turned one over." Wenda stopped and gazed into the fire, transfixed except for the shivering. "His eyes .... his face .... caught .... in a frozen look .... of naked terror!" Wenda sipped from the cup of broth and swallowed convulsively. "They were all the same!" "Peace, Wenda!" said Mara, her hand warm on her shoulder. "Peace! Speak no more of it." Wenda shook her head violently, and her shivering stilled from the warmth of the fire; but also she willed herself to be calm enough to tell her tale aright. "Quiet as death it had seemed, but the silence became menacing of a sudden. I looked from the face of a dead child caught in its fear. There was a man; he had come out of the hut closest to the village's inn; the chief's hut. His face was dead, his eyes black and empty; he walked toward me but his footfall made no sound. I felt I was in a nightmare. My deers saw him and fled south, taking the sledge with them. Wiser were they than I. "'Who are you?' I cried, I know not how I found voice to speak to It. It did not answer but reached a hand out to me. At that moment, somehow I saw as an Elf sees, I guess, and before me the world changed, and the man was but a shell; the wraith in the man was cold and deadly, and sought me. I fell into a panic, for I knew if It caught me my soul would not be my own. In my panic my shifting came upon me and I fled with the fleetness of a reindeer. Had I not the gift, I would be dead this moment, and a shell for this wraith. "It comes this way."