Author: Hob Goodfellowe

He shook his head, smiling. “I placed you into the roll of names for the maze too, and then afterward, the lists of those who would speak. There was some… how is it put? Ah, some finessing of Quinnya’s scribbled little list was required.” He waved a hand, lazily. “But the magic was not taxing….

Apologies for another late post this week. I came down with a head cold again, which I seem to be mostly recovered from now. Anyway, on with the tale… -oOo- Quinnya, having glanced over at Caewen, had not otherwise moved. She returned her gaze to the patch of cloud-dark sky where the man and birds…

Caewen glanced over at him, unsure what he was reacting to, then realised that from Dapplegrim’s perspective, the chair had presumably just moved on its own accord. Dapple’s skullish face looked genuinely intrigued now. As Quinnya advanced, the pale man darted a hand under his cloak, and a moment later something sharp and bright glinted…

The trail took them in and out of tents that were clumped like spring mushrooms. They wandered this way and that, all around the skirts of the gentler downhill slopes. Of course, this meant they had to dodge several more of the knots of night-worshipers in the last throws of their revels. Caewen stopped and…

Apologies for the delayed post. Nothing serious. Just overwhelmed by things that had to get done yesterday, and ended up having to let the post slide until today. -oOo-   Quinnya eased herself into a kneel beside the body, and then leaned low over Letha, looking at her face. Letha’s eyes were already open, staring…

“Between night and day?” “Them two?” A wave of a hand. “Ah, yes, of course, but they’re always fighting anyway. No, it’s not all about the Goddess-Queens of Brightness and Darkness. There are the multitudes of the third dynasty too. They need to talk and moot just as much, probably more so, because they actually…

Given the way that Dapplegrim was sniffing the air and the soil as they crept along, Caewen felt almost as if she were riding a huge dog rather than something more in the shape of a horse. They wove between tents and edged along the shadowy lips of the ridges that ran around the hillside….

“And you were simply standing around… watching… what was it you said?” “The Tent of Gifts.” Before Caewen could ask what this was, Keri cut in, anticipating the question. “The two dynasties, Day and Night, give the other peace gifts at each moot.” She shrugged. “The presents are kept in a tent, and on the…

It was about a half hour later when Dapplegrim’s voice roused, jolting Caewen back to full wakefulness, “Ho! Hurm! They’re back! Caewen! Come! Quick.” She jumped up, dashed for the outside, and pushed through the fabric into cold air and cloud-strained moonlight. Keri was close behind her. Both of them were still only mostly dressed,…