Hidden Current by Sharon Hinck

Author:Sharon Hinck [Hinck, Sharon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Christian, Fantasy
ISBN: 9781621841005
Publisher: Enclave Publishing
Published: 2019-08-14T05:00:00+00:00

During the next two days, Bri rebuffed each of my attempts to speak with her. With no source for parchment, the hours I could have spent copying the letter were wasted in fretting. Brantley, worried by the low stores of provisions at Windswell, busied himself with fishing and training Teague, a young lad who wanted to become a herder. He also took time to catch up with friends, and, I noticed, spent long hours with Brianna. He repaired thatch on her roof, stacked firewood, and loaded her smoker with fish. The villagers welcomed him at every threshold, sought his company all day and invited him to sit by the fire at night. I was happy for him, but part of me held a dull ache. While I caught glimpses of him enjoying time with everyone else, he avoided me.

One morning, I slipped outside moments before the primary sunrise, leaving Fiola snoring in her bed, and walked to the water’s edge, barefoot. I’d taken to touching the earth freely, no longer afraid of the voice and eager for any words from the Maker.

True to habit, Brantley stood on the shore patting Navar, studying the horizon, and preparing to head out for fish.

Navar noticed me first and tossed her head with a wide grin, shaking droplets onto Brantley.

Brantley spun, and when he saw me, his eyes narrowed. “You’re up early, dancer.”

I offered a tentative smile. “I hoped to catch you before you left for the day.”

“I’m busy. The sooner I restock supplies for the town, the sooner I can see you on your way.”

I blanched. He truly couldn’t wait to be rid of me.

He must have seen the hurt in my eyes, because his strong posture sagged and he softened the harsh edge to his voice. “Every day you’re here puts Windswell in danger. You do understand that, don’t you?”

“It’s you who doesn’t understand.” Frustration tightened my muscles. “The Maker’s letter is important. It—”

“Fine. Leave the letter here and one day when there’s less risk, folks who are interested can pass it around.”

“But that’s not what—”

“Rumors have reached the village of soldiers approaching from the midrim. I promised the patriarch I’d bring in one more herd of fish, since food has been so scarce, but time is fleeting. Now, if you’ll let me get to my fishing, we can leave tomorrow.”

“Not until I—”

He bounded onto Navar’s back and with a terse signal of his hand, she raced away, although she twisted her long neck to send me an apologetic glance.

I sank to the spongy tangleroot, dangling my feet in the milky water, water that stretched into infinity. I’d accomplished nothing here, and I’d run out of time. Brantley would drag me from the village by force tomorrow morning. Somehow I needed to share the letter. The people of Windswell had the right to know its contents.

I hurried back to the cottage, where Fiola was rising. My words tumbled out, full of confusion and frustration as I told her Brantley’s plans. “And Brianna won’t help me find parchment.

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