Over The Sea by Sherwood Smith

Author:Sherwood Smith [Smith, Sherwood]
Format: epub
Tags: Sherwood Smith, ebook, Over the Sea, Nook, Fantasy, adventure, Book View Cafe, Kindle
ISBN: 9781611380453
Publisher: Book View Cafe
Published: 2011-02-19T16:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN — Kwenz Strikes

If Clair could have, she would have kept us forever safe from danger.

This was of course despite the fact that she was herself in danger, something she sometimes tried to hide, and other times shared, at least with me. I worked hard at my magic studies. Oh, not every day, because sometimes the weather was just too nice, and we girls would get involved with a long, complicated game.

I also skipped magic studies when I got busy writing down the first version of my records, from which I have taken this account you’re reading now. At first I wrote down everything — everything the girls said, everything we did, guesses (mostly wrong) about various things. I even put down what desserts we had, because I still wasn’t used to having dessert, especially whatever I wanted.

Then I’d see Clair, or think of some spell I wished I could do, and guilt would goad me right back to my desk and I’d hit the books, studying furiously for the better part of a day, and determined to keep to a tough schedule. The sort of schedule that had become second nature to Clair.

So my progress was kind of like a hopping frog: a bloop this way, then that way, then another way, but I sort of made progress.

The main thing is, the girls were happy, and so was Clair.

Well, we had one last pretty patch of weather, and knowing that winter was nigh, Diana suggested a last camp-out in the woods. Most of the girls thought it was too cold at night. Irene and Dhana had had one of their squabbles, and so Irene declared that she was coming with us, that she needed fresh air. We all knew she hated camping, but we’d also learned by then not to say anything, or she’d get stubborn.

So the three of us carted sleeping bags out of the Junky, and up to a little hill that Diana liked, near a stream. I made us a fire, which was a big mistake, but the balmy day had fast turned chill.

We changed to nightgowns in the bags, and then sat in them round the fire, the orange light flickering on the girls’ faces as we traded off telling stories. Diana’s eyes were so dark the fire reflection danced in them, twin reflections, as she spoke, and listened. Her voice was soft, her stories short, mostly about animals.

Irene’s mood always improved when she told stories. They were usually funny, made up things about PJ and Fobo, silly stuff that was funny at the time because of the way she acted them out. Writing the words down just doesn’t do them justice.

When it was my turn I told an episode from a story I’d read during my days on Earth — Pippi Longstocking — that the girls loved hearing (they thought she was a real girl, as if anyone on Earth could be so lucky), and then we snuggled down to sleep. I remember lying

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