Friday Snippet Meme


 


Dubric this time, in what used to be his suite. This scene finishes Chapter 3.


**The following excerpt is first draft narrative, likely full of errors, and many changes are yet to come. Please do not quote or assume this is final text. All words are ©2007, Tamara Siler Jones, all rights reserved.**

Stain of Corruption
Chapter 3
Scene 7

Dubric covered his mouth and nose with his arm, and stumbled through greasy, choking smoke. The scorched and creaking hallway was awash with debris, the wallless remains of the bathchamber a charred inferno, and the rest of the suite obscured by smoke. After a brief, squinting glance into the fire, he held his breath and staggered beyond the reach of the flames, onto firmer footing. Open sky glimmered through the smoke, and, as he looked up through the hole, he saw the attic on fire with much of his stored magic lost to the blaze. Something there hissed and sputtered, shooting purple sparks against the shards of roof and walls.

The whole lot could explode any moment, he thought, stumbling forward and calling Maeve’s name. I see no ghost, so she must be alive. She must!

He stumbled over a busted chair and, as he stood, Maeve’s cat cried out from the depths of the destruction. Lachesis! he thought, shoving forward again.

Bathchamber fixtures had permeated his suite, from the twisted wreckage cast iron tub beside his crushed and broken bed, to the sink embedded in the sitting room wall. “Maeve!” he screamed again, flipping over charred furniture in the vain hope she lay beneath. He bent over, coughing, but continued on, into his old suite, the bachelor’s chambers he’d inhabited before his marriage necessitated the expansion, then screamed.

A woman’s lower leg lay half burnt on the floor just past the archway. Dubric staggered to it and fell, wailing and clutching it to his chest, cursing the bitch Goddess for her treachery. “Not again, you pegging evil whore. You can’t take my wife and child again!”

The cat cried out again and he stood, holding the leg like a fragile treasure. Crying, his tears clearing clean streaks through soot and grime, he looked about the destroyed remnants of his life. The storage room for Maeve’s studio stood across from him, the eastern wall half gone and the north completely obliterated. Spools, yarn, and bolts of cloth had scattered about in riotous color, even through the coating of ash and plaster dust. Mrowing in pain and fear, Lachesis crawled from the mess toward him, both forelegs obviously broken.

Dubric dropped his burden and hurried to the animal’s aide, but the slightest touch sent the cat hissing. It took a moment to unearth a bolt of fabric to wrap Lachesis with. His hands scratched but Lacheses securely bound, Dubric gathered him up and paused, spying Maeve’s hand among the yarns.

Frantic, he threw bolts and folded yardage aside, shoved away mountains of yarn and spun wool. Maeve lay sprawled on her side, blood oozing from her nose and her scorched ear. Shaking, he lay a hand upon her throat, then dove for her, shoving away wool and cloth.

Praise the Goddess, she was breathing!

Without moving her, Dubric checked her spine, her ribs. Finding no alarming injuries, he patted her face. “Wake up. Please. We must--”

A low rumble shook the ceiling and he glanced up to see a crack snake outward from the northeast corner of his suite. My magical devices!

“Maeve!” he said, sterner, pulling her to a slumped sitting position. “Wake up! You have to help me, I cannot--”

The ceiling creaked and shifted downward as if a heavy weight had just fallen upon it. Dubric strained to lift Maeve out of the mess. He tossed Lachesis onto her lap and, grunting, Dubric held her and staggered to his feet. He’d taken four shuddering steps when a hard bang shook the suite, shattering the ceiling and covering him with hot flecks of dust. He scrambled from the collapse, holding Maeve close against his chest as a lifetime’s collection of magical devices burst into sparks and flame, some crushed, others charred, but most horribly ruined. Dubric glanced up to the remaining attic and all of the saliva in his mouth turned bitter. A tarnished silver cage tottered at the edge of a half-burnt table, the two tiny creatures inside running and hissing.

Not the nippers! he thought, fear tainting his belly at the memories of a swarm reducing men to bones in a few short moments. The brilliant pebbly blue nipper hissed through black needle teeth, its red eyes gleaming like coals. Its green partner lunged and the cage tilted over the precipice and fell.

Dubric yelped, then screamed as the blue nipper leapt on him and buried its horrid teeth into his arm. He dropped Maeve and ripped the nipper free, sacrificing some flesh of his hand. Unsatiated, it scampered back to him even as he drew his sword. It pounced for Maeve but Dubric batted it against the wall before it touched her. It clung there, poised to spring, but he slammed it back and ran it through. Still it fought, a decades long starvation demanding to be quenched, and scrambled loose, chittering like a lunatic squirrel up his arm toward his face.

“Get off me you filthy bastard!” Dubric screeched. He grasped the vile thing, crushing it in his fist as its teeth tore at him and devoured the smallest finger of his left hand, bones and all. Screaming in pain, he flung it to the floor and stomped it, promptly falling to his backside as it wriggled free.

“Sir! What the hells?” Dien called from behind.

“Help me!” Dubric screamed at the nipper’s gleeful bite on his calf, then Dien was there, flicking it off like a nuisance insect.

The huge squire surged forward and stomped the nipper, careening to keep his balance and considerable weight on the vicious beast. Still it fought, hissing and biting. He stabbed it with his sword, crushing it beneath his heavy boots. Dubric stood and stabbed it as well, hoping, praying that nearly fifty summers without food had weakened it. It screamed and fought harder at each puncture of its bright, pebbled skin, shredding the side of Dien’s boot, tearing into the flesh of his foot.

“Get her sir!” Dien said, shoving Dubric back. “Get her out of here!”

“There is another!” Dubric yelled over Dien’s bellows of pain, even as he gathered Maeve. “A green one. I cannot leave you to--”

“Go!” Dien grunted as he swung at the floor. The nipper’s head, still snarling and gnashing its hideous teeth, separated from its body. Stumbling, his foot bleeding freely, Dien snatched up Lachesis and shoved Dubric ahead. “I got it, sir! Go!”

Ceiling collapsing behind them, the men lunged for safety.


Posted: Friday - August 24, 2007 at 12:46 AM         |

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