Camp NaNoWriMo: Day 32

Read Day 31

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel! We’re almost there. By my calculations, there’s only three chapters left of this project. Hopefully I can get them to you in a more timely manner than the last few days.


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Image from Here

The fomorians check on us and glare at the brothers’ antics, but don’t bother putting an end to it. They just turn their attention back into the dark forest. When have flower peddles and butterflies ever been a threat?

With the kids and adults alike distracted by the magic, the brothers and Oliver exchange devious looks, telling me it’s not flower peddles and butterflies that the fomorians should be worried about at all. Just like we under estimated their magic, they’ve turned right around and underestimated the faeries’. It might not be as strong or concentrated, but it’s more creative. It can build out of anything, even stones and sticks, creating wonder out of practically nothing.

Or creating weaponry when the time is right.

“We’re already dead, aren’t we?” stutters the middle aged man we talked to before. “We’re dead and we’re stuck in some weird part of the afterlife instead of Heaven or Hell.”

“Oh, we can assure you you’re alive,” Oliver says. “The world’s just a lot bigger and stranger than you originally thought.”

“I’d say it’s safe to say that, yeah,” mutters the twenty-something. She watches Kole and Kellen play with the kids, picking up sticks and slipping them in their pockets as they move around the campsite. Kole notices her staring and winks at her. She blushes and focuses on the kids instead.

“If we’re all alive, then morning’s going to come. What then?” demands the middle aged man. “What is playing games and doing party tricks going to do to save us all?”

“Plenty if you do them right,” says Kellen. He opens his mouth to speak again, but stops short.

The rise of a distant cry makes us all follow his lead. It comes upon us like a wave, growing until it reverberates off every tree and sends our fomorian guards on edge. The human captives huddle closer and hold tight to the kids.

Something tells me the queens heard our boats being attacked after all.

The fomorians grip their weapons tighter, still unaware of the threat from those they guard. They stand slightly spread out, guarding the entrance to the camp. As they do, the brothers slip their hands into their pockets and Oliver reaches down and picks one of the longer branches off the ground. He doesn’t even bother hiding the way he makes it morph and shift into a long sword. The damn ridges of the wood melt away, become cool translucent crystal just like all the other faerie weapons I’ve seen. With it in hand, he inches around the crowd of humans, gently shoving them forward out of blade’s range.

“Exhibit A,” Kole murmurs, drawing the first of what must be many small daggers hidden in his armor. “Those party tricks are about to be your chance to run.”

A distant crash gives them distraction they need. The fomorians face the sound and the brothers hurl their daggers at the back of their necks. The cord holding their charms breaks and slip from their necks. As the two realize what’s happened, Oliver brings his bland down on one of the stones surrounding the camp. He leaps over it. The seal’s been broken. Kole and Kellen shove us back towards the rest of the humans as the five fomorians move to attack.

I’m the last one through the breech and force myself from looking back. The brothers have their job to do and I have mine. They can handle it. They have to.

Oliver pushes me ahead of him so that he’s taking up the rear. “Get ahead of everyone with Miguel,” he orders. “Kole and Kellen will be fine.”

For now, all I can do is have faith in that.

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