I’m back and full of energy and ideas. I had a wonderful vacation, but now it’s time to get back to work. This week, the Tuesday Tales authors are writing to the word prompt SQUASH. I’m jumping back into my romantasy, the new term coined for novels that involve romance and fantasy, The Bonds of Time. It’s been a while, but as you may recall, I left the changeling princess in surgery. While she’s there, let’s see what the one who put her there is doing.
“You’re late.” The wind carried the muffled, angry female voice inland.
To Foxfire’s ears, it sounded as if she was speaking into a scarf or the collar of her coat, and her tone added to his discomfort.
“We’ve been waiting for you for hours. You know how much my baby and I hate the cold and the water!”
“I’m sorry.” The whiny voice was anxious and apologetic. “He was restless all day and wouldn’t settle tonight. I’m getting sick and tired of humoring and catering to him.”
“He’s right.” The second passenger spoke with an unusual accent, one that Foxfire, with all of his training, couldn’t quite place. “He may have outlived his usefulness; we’ll have to see. These delays are becoming too frequent and more and more inconvenient. Not all of our partners are as patient as I’d like them to be. I relish the small comforts our business associates provide, but I don’t think I’d enjoy one of His Majesty’s little necktie parties, nor a prolonged stay in some dreary prison, and certainly not being exiled to an isolated, backwards or barbaric country. I enjoy the trappings of civilization far too much for that.”
“Perhaps it’s time we helped him along.” The ice in the woman’s voice made Foxfire shiver. “If the other has done his job, then we no longer need the old fool. It’s a simple matter to arrange another accident, a fall down the stairs…”
“Well, leave me out of it!” the familiar voice exclaimed. “He’s my uncle, for God’s sake! Why not get one of your henchmen to take care of it? Or, for that matter, do it yourself! You’re supposed to have power, aren’t you? And, as I recall, poisons and accidents are aspects of your work that you generally enjoy.”
“Coward!” She barked the word at him. “I could squash you with a single thought, but perhaps torture would be better.”
“Enough!” the man raised his voice. “You’re squabbling like children. She has a point, and this petty arguing doesn’t help. I’ll deal with it as soon as I can. Once the estate is yours, our business can proceed at a quicker pace. For the moment, we have to wait. Our host deserves our thanks. After all, it’s his tiresome stories and fantasies about little people, witches, fairies, ghosts, and magic that provide our excellent cover.”
Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.
Living the Dream 