Girl of Glass and Fury: A Portal Fantasy by C.K. Beggan

Author:C.K. Beggan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romantic fantasy, new adult, series fantasy, low fantasy, fantasy ebook, portal fantasy, fantasy dark, portal fiction, portal world, portal magic

Sixteen

How can it still be so early? I've shown the Old Well to ten different wisps—enough that they've started bringing folk on their own. Only a trickle of water echoes through the Old Well, whispering up the time-smoothed stones toward our straining wisp ears. But it's enough. Enough for these wisps to believe me.

But there are a few annoying outliers. Like loudmouth Vian. “I don't even understand why we're wasting time listening to a long-dried Well,” she complains, tossing her crystalline hair. “It doesn't sound like water to me.”

“It's not a waterfall,” a boy from the year behind us pipes up, then snickers with his friend. Vian replies with a vicious glare.

“I can smell it,” insists another wisp. “It's definitely water.”

I allow the corner of my mouth to lift in a smile. It's these folk, whose eyes light up each time they hear a droplet, who I've got to reach; fools will be fools, and Vian will be one of them. Several wisps are so interested they hand over the Old Well’s mouth, searching for a glint from the water. Soon enough, someone will come along and ask what they’re up to. Since no one keeps a secret in Sundown, it'll be enough.

I turn away, on to the next part of my mission. That's when I spot Kith. Ancestors, how is it still that early?

Kith darts between houses like the sunlight will burn her. When did she get so stealthy? And so quick. She zips behind a buckle in the narrow green—which ought to be called a brown—between spired houses. She reappears before the houses can block my view.

Sahim'n karaw. What are those shadows teaching her?

“What are you looking at?” Vian asks, brightening at the prospect of something interesting. Then she scoffs. “There's that shadow girl again.”

As if Kith has no right to be here.

“Her name is Kith,” I correct.

“Right.” Vian could not care less. “If the shadow's World is so good and has so much food, why doesn't she stay there? Then we wouldn't have to be working day and night in the fields.”

I don't point out that Vian isn't doing any of that work. “Some folk enjoy farm labor.”

Vian sticks out her tongue, pink-tinted but translucent. “Boring folk.”

“Good folk.” She knows Hamlich is my uncle. Vian enjoys getting under people's skin. I guess that means she's gotten under mine. I stalk away, disgusted with myself.

“Gotta run,” I say over my shoulder, trying not to grit my teeth.

As I slip between houses, fists clenched, I don’t recognize the signs of someone following me until my shoulder prickles. I whirl, expecting Vian and with a barb perched on the end of my sharp tongue—but it’s not Vian. It's the boy from the year behind us, the finger he tapped me with still outstretched. His name is Tal, or—Tallian.

“I wanted to say thanks,” he says, now holding out his hands in defense. I’m still wearing a storm cloud of an expression, meant for Vian and not for him. Consciously, forcefully, I soften it as best I can.

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